


3 Weeks in Gotham

by brunchywrites



Category: DC Animated Universe, DC Cinematic Universe, Gotham/Smallville, Sort of - Fandom, since its basically a show crossover with comic and movie elements and references
Genre: Angst, Death, Domestic, Drugs, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, MY BOYS!!!, Sort Of, SuperBat, Teen love, a fuck up, also bruce gets drugged and its an ordeal, and hallucinations and generally some scary things, if i make a sequel (prolly tbhi love my own au lmao), im going to hell, kid AU, lots of flirting ya'll oh boy, oh basic tw for drugs, soft romance, theyre teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:54:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunchywrites/pseuds/brunchywrites
Summary: Sixteen Year old Clark Kent is on a journalism field trip to Gotham, where he has decided to write an article about a charity event, celebrating Wayne Enterprises most recent donation to the city. But before he can get there he finds himself bewildered and unexpectedly taking part in the cities trends, culture, and even night-life as he tries to gather information on his piece. With his slowly nearing due date he finds himself wondering what will come next during this three-week-long endeavor.





	1. First Day in Gotham

Clark didn’t think that his high school journalism class would actually take their trip to Gotham. He had a vague understanding of how expensive it could be and was floored when his teacher said they would actually be going that year.

 

After three years of fundraising, it was possible, the whole class was going. Sure, it was a field trip but it was important. Everything seemed to happen in Gotham, from charity events to assassinations. Huge drug busts! It was all incredible news to Smallville, the only thing that happened at home was vandalism and that was occasional. That and crop circles but weren’t those vandalism too? Clark didn’t know really. Crime wasn’t a huge thing in Smallville, never had been for the most part.    
  
He could say his crash landing onto Earth was the biggest thing to happen but it shockingly was only talked about for a few years. Once the town knew him they seemed to calm down about it. He was.. Sort of normal to them. Clark couldn’t think on that now though, there was other things to worry about, like-

 

The close to 21 hour trip there was awful, Clark made a point to sit in the front to avoid being talked to. Not to be rude, he enjoyed talking. But this was not any field trip, there wouldn’t be a point in going if it was just a field trip. Their assignment for the three weeks they were there was simple, too simple. Too vague and Clark hated vague to a horrible degree. He worked better with specifics.

 

The assignment was to just write something about Gotham, a review of the city, maybe if you went to an event you reported on that, or if anything happened- be the first to write about that. The problem was that Clark didn’t know what he wanted to report on exactly. He was prepared for anything though. After all he had his strength, speed, and impeccable vision-hearing combo with him.

 

He had brought his normal clothes, a nice suit and the suit his mother made for him out of the fabric he came wrapped in when he crashed onto Earth. (You never know, she had told him.) From what Mr. Jones had been talking about they were actually going to attend a few events. Clark didn’t want to look- out of place since he always looked out of place. If he could look decent at events with the suit that was fine by him. Maybe the tie didn’t match though-

 

Drumming his fingers on his thigh, he sighed and combed his hair out of his face. His moment of thinking interrupted by someone shrieking about a possibility, an odd possibility that he never thought of till it was screeched out.

 

Clark listened in, ma told him it was bad to eavesdrop but he did it anyways while looking at the notebook in his lap, pretending to write while he listened. 

 

“What if we ran into a Bruce Wayne, he lives in Gotham!” One girl whispered to her friend, then said friend chuckled a little.

 

“There’s a huge charity event while we’re there, tons of guys will be there Lucy. Not just Bruce Wayne. Oliver Queen might be there! Tons of guys with big companies, doing good things.”

 

Lucy clicked her tongue and Clark chuckled to himself at the noise, 

 

“Yeah but how many,  _ our _ age? Hardly any. Besides. I’m allowed to look and admire them from afar.” 

 

Clark stopped listening to them and picked up his pencil again, writing very carefully so the rocking bus wouldn’t make his writing illegible. 

 

_ Wayne-Queen charity event? _ He wrote.

 

He’d get more information from Mr. Jones later on. If his memory served though, Wayne Enterprises had built a new school close to city limits, away from crime so that students could have a safer education, and housing. A boarding school that was paid for by the company. It was absurd and astounded Clark. What could make a medical company decide on that decision? 

 

“Bright ideas you’re thinking of in there Mr.Kent?” 

 

Clark tried to hide the fact he jumped, looking up at his Journalism teacher and smiling weakly. 

 

“Yes- I.. Yeah. Sort of- I mean I heard about the Wayne charity event, that’s what it is right?” 

 

Mr. Jones laughed, loud and echoey as he pressed himself into the same seat as him. 

 

“Yes, it is a Wayne charity event. If you’re thinking of reporting it I can get you in, it does cost money to go..”

 

“How much?” 

 

“Never mind that Clark- if you’re serious about reporting it… what angle are you going for, boy?” 

 

Clark shrugged, “An easy way would be charity goer, it could be a viewpoints piece. But I’m also thinking of reviewing the important people about why they’re there, what they see in the future for their companies, personal opinions of their own, and maybe,” he licked his lips a little, “What they hope to accomplish by being there? Connections, new ideas, making deals?” 

 

Mr. Jones was grinning from ear to ear, “That’s brilliant, I like the second idea better. You have to talk to people. I can’t wait to read what you write!” 

 

“But it’s not definite.” 

 

“It is now,” then he got up to ask another student what they planned on reporting on without giving Clark a chance to defend why that might not be a good idea. 

 

Clark rested his head against the back of the bus seat. Great, now he was stuck writing something he wasn’t sure about. He closed his eyes, if anything maybe he could sleep a little. He’d long since found out he didn’t need sleep but it was still nice to take part in. If anything it relaxed him..

 

Then one of the girls squealed, “Mr. Jones we’re in Gotham!” At the top of her lungs while smacking her window over and over. Clark sat up and looked out through the window, at the many passing cars, and people. It was so much more different than Smallville. The people, and especially what they wore caught his eye. 

 

A girl in his town would probably wear jeans and flannel, maybe a tasteful skirt and a patterned top, or a sweater. That was typical. But on first glance at Gotham he saw a woman walking in a red sequin skirt, leather jacket, and studded boots. Her brown hair was in a half updo, with a silver studded band tying together her look.

 

Another man walked past her in a fur coat and leather pants, more people with studs or sequins and something Clark couldn’t call a top, it only covered the top part of the man’s chest. Even with the foggy weather, everyone was dressed- finely but he wouldn’t describe it that way if he were writing about it. They looked.. Cold, untouchable. 

 

The buildings were even more extravagant, he found as he looked around. Skyscrapers that touched the clouds, clubs with neon lights and brightly colored doors. Old apartments that were made from even older chapels and little businesses. Small homes dotted the area, tucked away in loft style places, rooms built from roofs. Clark used his vision to see inside of them. A couple breaking into laughter while watching their child, and a man polishing his gun.

 

Clark breathed softly as he turned forward, only a few minutes into Gotham and they were in bumper to bumper traffic. A small car was honking aggressively and someone was cursing. It was laughable, odd, and stupidly he almost liked it.

 

It was city life in the way Clark hadn’t read in textbooks. He wasn’t fond of it but it had a charm. He felt like he could do anything without being found. In the city Clark only knew his classmates and teacher. Even then with his classmates he only knew them vaguely. Plus, Mr. Jones said that as long as it was in good nature and he knew where they went. Anyone could go anywhere they pleased for the sake of reporting well. 

 

What a perfect way to spend his three weeks, Clark smiled. He enjoyed people, liked them, liked being around people but the hard fact was that he was alien and not as much like them as he wanted to be. 

 

And he had a hard feeling no one in Gotham would think he was odd. Judging by what he had seen so far he could easily blend in. If not by clothes then maybe in actions.

*****

When they arrived at the hotel Clark kept his head down as he grabbed his suitcase. A light drizzle had started and everyone was chatting about all the odd things they saw.

 

“Okay young ladies and gentlemen,” Mr.Jones clapped his hands together, “We are ready to go into the hotel-“ he started announcing roommates. Clark waited for his name to be called but found that it never came. Right, odd number of students. He never talked to them much unless it was for business, or for articles. But he realized that he’d always been the odd one out a long time ago. Journalism class made that no different. Even if it was his favorite class of all.

 

“Sir?” Clark asked, “What about me?”  Someone laughed at his question and he had to choose to ignore it. Rude was all he could think, he didn’t really do anything to be singled out a lot. Okay- when he was little he did break a hammer with his bare hands but he was better at controlling his strength and speed. A lot better now, at least.

 

Mr. Jones looked at him, “You’ve your own room. As do I, rooming situations were made during a busy time. If you get lonely I’m sure you can visit-”

 

Clark smiled and nodded, “Thank you.” He heard the jingle of keys in his teacher’s pocket before he pulled them out  and started dealing them to roommates. Teenagers ran off, scattering to discuss article ideas and pictures as well as what they were going to buy during their stay in the city.

 

Before Clark left his dad gave him fifty dollars, which felt like a lot. He tried to refuse but pa just winked and said  _ “Just in case you need it. If you have change you can give it to me. But have fun, okay? Have  _ **_fun_ ** _ Clark.”  _

 

He smiled as his key was pressed into his hand, clutching the cold metal close before looking at it. The hotel had 13 floors, and their rooms were a bit scattered. Attendance would be done at 8pm every night like Mr. Jones said on the bus. They also had a  10pm curfew after that where they had to check into the hotel by name. For safety. Gotham was riddled with crime after all.

 

When he got to his room, which happened to be on the 10th floor he made quick work of unlocking the door and stepping in.

 

He flicked the lights on and looked around as he lifted his suitcase over his shoulder. A queen bed sat to the wall, with two night stands on either side, a set of drawers to the far left of the room and a bathroom behind that. At the head of the bed was an old painting of the skyline. Clark could tell it was old because the paint chipped awkwardly in some places.

 

As he walked in and shut the door behind him he noticed that the floor was laminate. He’d only been in a hotel two other times and their floors were carpet. This was new, and nice. He admitted that as he tossed his suitcase on to the bed and started unpacking as the rain got worse.

 

He melted into his routine quickly before changing into a different jacket. Also his pa’s- well a hand me down. Worn leather with a fleece inside. Sure, he didn’t really think he’d be exploring on the first night but he wanted to  _ know  _ the city for what it truly was. Not just to enjoy this field trip, it was important for his article. 

 

At least that was his excuse as he walked out of the room and locked the door, tucking the key into his pocket as he bolted down the hall as fast as he could. In seconds he was outside, the cold rain buzzing over his head as he came to a walk down the busy sidewalk. It was night time, the moon flared at him over a building and the streets grew more interesting with the nightfall.

 

The clothes people wore became more- just more. Decorated masks, long dresses, satin coats, fine hair pieces, hell, even brightly colored feathers. A mix of perfume and muck tickled his nose as he turned down a street corner, neon lights blinking at him. Clubs- bars. The blues and purples made his eyes ache as he kept walking. People eyed him briefly, and he listened in on what they said. Had they noticed he was not from here?

 

“Odd to wear leather this close to winter, it’s much more for early fall.” Said a man in a low voice, “My voice weeps for the fashion inexperience of the youth.” And he laughed.

 

Clark shook his head, the only thing the guy noticed was his coat, that was fine. He raised his head a little in the rain and walked with a new purpose. If people only cared about his coat he didn’t care, just as long as they didn’t look at him.

 

An idea struck him, he could probably get into one of these bars or clubs. He’d always been told he looked older for his age, so when he looked at the signs he realized he could get good material from this, meet people. Get an inside perspective of what citizens of Gotham thought about the charity event. 

 

A less bright sign came into view and he read it carefully, to make notes later. 

 

_ The Sirens _ was what the club was called and he found himself entering without so much as a glance from the bouncer. It was too easy for a kid to get into a club, he noted. 

 

He looked up and couldn’t stop his own gasp, the club was.. not what he thought it would be. There wasn’t loud music, just the gentle strum of a band playing on stage. Many people were sitting and laughing as if on dates, blue flowers decorated the table and everything had a pale glow around it. Dare he call it serene as he walked up to the glass countered bar, sitting on a stool so that he could watch the band properly from afar. Trying not to get attention onto himself, really.

 

There was one guitarist, a drummer, and a lead singer, with a soft voice and a pretty face. They all wore bright colors, from the lead’s purple lipstick to the drummer’s neon shoes. He’d never seen such things before, it just wasn’t done. Maybe he’d spend the fifty on a bright jacket to wear on occasion. Or on a dress for Ma…

 

“My my, I’ve never seen your face around here,” Clark jumped at the woman’s voice and looked up. He cleared his throat and smiled shyly.

 

She grinned back and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, even she was in bright clothes. A studded floral jacket with a black skirt. Clark didn’t want to see her shoes. So instead he looked into her crystal blue eyes. 

 

“Yeah..” was all he managed and she giggled a little, “I-I mean I’m visiting.” 

 

“I could tell,” her voice was smooth as she looked at his jacket, “Not many people have the kind eyes you have. What are you doing in Gotham?”  He didn’t think she’d even looked at his face, maybe he missed that part of the interaction. 

 

“Well, I’m a journalist, I’m reporting on the charity event. Are you going?” 

 

The woman looked at him like he was stupid, he wasn’t stupid. 

 

“Of course! That’s the Wayne-Charity event, right? There’s one once a month I swear..” she shook her head, then smiled again, “What can I get you to drink?” 

 

Clark blinked, “Water.” 

 

“No vodka? Whiskey, oh you look like a whiskey guy and-“

 

“No thank you, ma’am. I’m only sixteen, it’s against the law for a minor to drink.” He interrupted her, not to be rude but he didn’t want to be pressured into things. He wasn’t sure he could even feel the alcohol but it was still illegal. 

 

Her eyes widened at him and he tried not to hear how her heart picked up its pace. 

 

“Oh you’re really not from here.” She ducked under the bar and handed him a bottle of water instead of a glass. He opened it and sipped it quietly, “Sixteen,” she whispered quietly, shaking her head. “And are you here..?”

 

Clark offered her a warm smile to her newfound tentativeness, “I’m here on a school field trip, it’s big. I’m from Kansas, yes I’m a farmer.” He’d had to go through his own story so many times he managed to narrow it down. He expected her to be shocked but instead she stuck out her hand. 

 

“Welcome to Gotham, country-boy. I’m Barbara Kean,” She fluttered her lashes and Clark took her hand in his, shaking it gently. 

 

“Clark Kent, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Kean.” 

 

Barbara laughed, soft and echoey in the club. 

 

“Okay, Mr. Kent. I expect that article written as soon as possible, and in my hands right here. The whole newspaper.” She gestured out widely with her hands, fingers decorated in big rings.

 

It was Clark’s turn to blink in disbelief, “Really?” 

 

“I’ll buy 200 of your school’s papers for my club, yes. Now then, we’ve a deal now Clark. Gotham lesson number one, you pay for your deals. As soon as your papers are printed I want them where you sit now.” 

 

“O-Of course! I can do that.” He got up and Barbara smiled again, something glimmering in her eyes.

 

“I know you can, now go back to wherever your staying. The streets are darker at night.” 

 

Clark flashed her a grin but started walking anyways.

 

“I know!” He called over his shoulder, running out just like he had when he left the hotel. He should’ve asked for the time. If it was ten already he might be screwed. Seriously screwed.

 

He came to a jog once the hotel came into view, taking a deep breath as he stepped through the doors. Mulling over everything Barbara told him in his mind. All of it was fresh, he had a knack for remembering things like that. 

 

Mr. Jones stopped him as he walked down the hall, hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Clark! You missed dinner, where were you, boy?” 

 

“I wanted to stretch my legs, so I  went for a walk. Sorry, I think I’m carsick too so it’s better that I missed.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

The man just smiled, then sighed, “Alright, just.. be safe and let me know next time. Your event is in three days at 5pm at  _ The Sirens _ . Make sure you get there on time, record your interviews-“ 

 

“Yes sir, I got it.” Wow, maybe Gotham was smaller than he originally thought..

 

Mr. Jones clapped him on the shoulder, a bright grin on his cherubic face, “That-a boy, go get some rest. From what I hear everyone else is going out to check out the social scene. Maybe you should go with them.”    
  
Clark shook his head, “No, I’m going to go into town and try to find more sources for my article. This is a school trip, not a vacation.”    
  
“You can have fun-” 

 

“I know,” he smiled at his teacher, “I think I’m gonna go to bed now, talk to you in the morning Mr. Jones.”   
  


The man let out a heavy sigh and gave him a sad smile, it didn’t reach his eyes at all.    
  
“Alright, sleep well, Clark.”   
  
They parted ways and he turned away from his teacher, walking up the sets of stairs to get to his hotel room. He took it the normal way and wandered down the hallway quietly. Everyone was quiet and he could hear giggling a few rooms over. But that wasn’t what intrigued him. What piqued his interest was that  there was a large, public balcony on floor ten. Probably a smoking area except..   
  
There was obviously someone perched on the edge of the balcony, knee folded and leg out. Clark walked closer to the glass door, trying to peer through the rain. The person just sat perched there, obviously looking for something. He could hear their calm heartbeat, like the ocean. He bit his lip and went to open the door.    
  
“Hey- it’s raining you should be inside.” It was bad for someone to just perch there, they’d definitely get sick. Was this a weird Gotham trend?    
  
Whoever it was only looked back at him, clad in heavily tinted goggles before leaping off the edge of the balcony. Clark couldn’t get there fast enough, looking over the edge he saw the figure vanish behind a car. It was so odd but he couldn’t focus on it.

 

Clark knew he didn’t need sleep but he oddly got tired the same way everyone else did, out of habit sure but he still felt the need to sleep. He turned around and walked back into the hotel, fishing his key from his pocket and unlocking his door once again.   
  
Everything was how he left it, perfectly neat and organized. Clark threw his jacket off and just let it go to the floor as he changed into pajamas. He’d shower in the morning, that was a good idea.    
  
As he got ready for bed he decided to roll the blinds of his window up. The city scape was beautiful, dotted with glowing lights as far as the eye could see. It certainly wasn’t the stars, but it came to a close second.


	2. The Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clark takes another stroll around Gotham and meets new people and new things about his classmates

  
  


Clark awoke with a sharp knock to his door, he jolted up and shuffled out of bed. Nearly tripping over his own two feet as he ran to open the door,

 

“I’m coming,I’m coming!” He yelled, 

 

“Well hurry up you’re going to be late for breakfast!”

 

Right, this hotel had a continental breakfast. He nearly forgot about it until then. 

 

“Okay, thank you!” He didn’t know who woke him up for breakfast, he could hardly tell it was morning because the rain was so heavy. When he looked at the alarm clock it read 9:32a.m and he sighed to himself quietly. Maybe he was making up for lost sleep on the bus.

 

Clark hurried to get dressed, shoving himself into jeans and a cotton shirt before he could even use the restroom or brush his teeth. He ran into the bathroom and quickly went to work scrubbing down his mouth. He’d have to at least comb his hair. It was an absolute mess of tangles. Right- he should shower first. Breakfast- then shower. He was actually hungry. God he was way too distracted to function.

 

He took a breath and spat into the sink, rinsing his mouth out and patting his face dry with the soft towel hanging from the rack. For now this would have to do. It was all he could do to put shoes and socks on after that, jogging downstairs like he had done the night previous.

 

“Oh good morning, Clark!” It was Lucy from the bus, she was grinning at him over a plate full of pancakes.

 

“Morning,” he waved shyly and decided to get himself a bagel, smothering it in cream cheese as he walked around the lobby. He was so distracted yesterday that he missed the velvet seats and the older looking chandelier. The wallpaper was a floral print though, which took away from the class of it all. All of the windows were large too, to let in the light he heard someone say.

 

It was still raining, not nearly as hard though. He had today, tomorrow, then there was the charity event. What was he going to fill that time with? He could go back to  _ The Sirens _ or just explore. He hardly got far last night.

 

The day was longer though, maybe he could get some interesting pictures. Didn’t Mr. Jones get tons of disposable cameras? And they brought a few of the expensive ones. He just wanted to take something back to show his ma and pa though.

 

Clark shoved the rest of the bagel into his mouth, sighing a little as he felt taping on his shoulder.

 

Turning quickly, he watched Lucy.

 

“Are you busy today? Barb and I thought you could come to the shopping district with us- scope out the trends.” 

 

“Well, I- I was kind of gonna explore the city a bit more, Sure. I can go with you guys.” He shrugged a little. It wasn’t like he was doing something for his article till Wednesday anyways. 

 

Lucy’s smile became easy on her face and her shoulders dropped down. She was relaxed, 

 

“Thank you, I know we never talk in class-“

 

“It’s fine, just let me grab my jacket and we can go out?” 

 

“Yes! I mean- let me get my jacket too.” Lucy laughed and skipped upstairs as quick as she could. 

 

Clark put his hands in his pockets as he made a point of walking up the stairs a bit slower than normal. All ten flights, he passed a busy woman on the phone and a man with a red mask stain on his cheek. He only glanced though, it looked like a lipstick print.

 

He rolled his eyes and smiled as he made it to the room, looking over at the smoking balcony from last night. Maybe he was paranoid but he slowly walked outside, the rain had slowed to a misty sprinkle by the time he put his hands on the stone ledge and looked down.

 

The leather-clad figure was standing just beneath him, looking up with its pale face and large goggles. It tilted its head and Clark tried to see through the goggles.

 

For some reason he couldn’t, they were lined with something that blocked his vision and he leaned back onto the balcony. He looked straight ahead at the building across from him before turning around and going inside.

 

This was a trip, he couldn’t focus on weird people who liked to perch on balconies in the pouring rain. He wanted to have fun, even if he had his suit with him- no. He needed to go with Lucy and Barb. 

 

Clark retrieved his jacket from his room, snagging his key. So much for a shower..

 

***********

 

When they got to the shopping district the rain had ceased entirely, instead the sky was just gray and overcast and the streets were slick. Barb led the way while Lucy walked by Clark’s side, happily chatting about the clothes that she saw.

 

“I watched a man walk out of his apartment in a leather dress, a dress! Oh if he did that in Smallville I swear! You can wear and do anything in Gotham.”

 

“Yesterday- I saw a woman wearing a pink jacket and leather skirt,” Clark murmured, “The colors really work, it suits the city I think.”

 

Barb laughed and turned around, looking at them and snorting.

 

“Gotham does too much, everyone looks so uncomfortable with themselves. It’s probably the sequins up their-“

 

“Barb!” Lucy erupted into laughter and Clark rolled his eyes a little. He quit focusing on the girls and looked at all of the shop windows. Mainly places were tailors, adjusting clothes to fit perfectly or adding personal flair to anyone’s ensemble. 

 

Other places had full outfits on display, nude colored business wear next to cutting edge jackets and sparkly shoes. He saw a sweater with rhinestones on it and had to look away because it was so reflective. 

 

Lucy and Barb were still talking, and Clark regretted not getting a disposable camera to use. It was boring trying to tune out their conversations about clothing. Apparently their article was on clothing trends of Gotham compared to Smallville. Easy and simple, but boring to him. 

 

The trends did surprise him, no two people looked the same. But honestly bringing that back to Smallville- it didn’t mix to him in the slightest.

 

They were about to turn a corner and Lucy smacked right into another girl, who shoved her back. Clark caught her by the shoulders, focusing on the other girl.

 

“Shit- watch where you’re going, would you?” The girl hissed at Lucy, glaring, “If I was someone else you’d probably have hell to pay!” 

 

“Who are you to tell her that?!” Barb put her arm over Lucy’s chest.

 

The girl put a hand on her hip, chuckling, “Oh my god, you guys are  _ not _ from here. Well- probably a decent time enough. So here, let me get something to your thick skull,” 

 

Clark stepped backwards, trying to pull Lucy with him, 

 

“We don’t want trouble, it was an accident, ma’am. Please- I’m sorry.” 

 

The girl flared up at him then her gaze softened before she snapped back down to Lucy.

 

“Tell your boyfriend to be quiet, he didn’t do anything. You did, so here’s your Gotham lesson number two-“ Everything felt like slow motion as Clark saw the girl pull out a knife, lunging towards Lucy.

 

He caught the girl’s wrist just as the blade nearly touched Lucy’s throat. Barb was trembling slightly, too scared to speak.

 

“Whoa, strong guy are you? Lucky girl.” 

 

“I’m not her boyfriend, we didn’t mean trouble with you at all. She’s learned her lesson, can we go now?” Clark narrowed his eyes at her but the girl just smiled before turning to Lucy, patting her cheek with a gloved hand.

 

Lucy was shaking, “I-I’m sorry.” 

 

The girl put her knife away and shrugged, pushing past Barb, 

 

“Good, now just remember to watch where you go in this city, and never make a turn without looking down the corner first.” And she stalked off, ducking under an overhang into a building like it was nothing at all. As if their interruption meant nothing. 

 

Clark sighed and let Lucy lean on him for a few seconds to collect herself. She finally stood up, tucking her hair over her shoulder.

 

“You didn’t have to stick up for me.” She mumbled, looking at Barb. “You’re my friend and you didn’t say or do anything!” 

 

“She had a knife!!” Barb yelled.

 

“It wasn’t like you did anything to defend yourself Lucy, you didn’t apologize or anything.. I couldn’t let you just get hurt.” 

 

Lucy shot him a look, “I can handle myself, we’re in Gotham. I know how-“

 

Clark sighed a little, putting his hands up in defense, “Okay, then next time I won’t do anything. Does that make you happy?” 

 

“Clark’s right, you wouldn’t say anything and she nearly stabbed you.” Barb rubbed her arms a little. “You could say thank you, at least.” 

 

Barb and Lucy glared at each other for a second before Lucy turned around to look at him. She rubbed her eyes and suddenly hugged him.

 

“Thank you.” She mumbled into his chest and he was too shocked to hug her back. He wasn’t really used to girls hugging him out of the blue and Lucy pulled away before he could return the gesture.

 

“You’re welcome, I’m going back to the hotel for a while, stay safe you guys- and enjoy yourselves.” He waved behind him as he started to backtrack his way to the hotel, ignoring their calls for him. Truthfully, he didn’t feel bad for leaving them at their own wills. He thought he could get things done but they were both too frivolous and he wanted to explore the city for what it really was.

 

Gotham had the highest crime rate in the entire U.S which was what most people normally wrote about outside of Gotham. He’d taken glances at newspaper stands, expecting scandals, the latest robbery, things he saw in Smallville papers about Gotham. But instead it was about the upcoming charity event, a new drug that had come upon the streets that had just been called the _ 01 Ellusion _ . Then something about a cure for a liver disease as well as a cop scandal but that was it.    
  
It wasn’t what Clark expected but so far nothing was like what Clark expected Gotham to be. So far he’d run into the owner of a beautiful club, and a street girl who wielded a knife and threatened people with an odd sense of happiness in her eyes. He reflected on the incident with Lucy, wishing he’d listened to the stranger’s heartbeat. If it was panicked he guessed he might’ve noticed it but he didn’t. Maybe she was calm then?    
  
He found himself wandering with his own thoughts, turning down corners, not looking anyone in the face until he walked down a secluded alley-way. It obviously opened up to another road and he took it quietly.    
  
The entry to the new road led to a lot of things Clark had also only read in papers, it was restaurants. Gotham was in districts, club districts, shopping districts, living districts, and apparently dining districts. It was so weird yet.. Easy to navigate. He supposed if he got lost he’d just manage his way back by the neon signs and hand-made kiosk onnings.    
  
Now he didn’t enter any of the eateries, instead peeking inside, smelling quietly through the open doors and windows. A man sat outside peeling potatoes, Clark walked over to him and smiled.    
  
“Need any help sir?”    
  
The man looked up at him quietly, old, with wrinkles around his eyes from years of smiling. He tilted his head at the teenager.    
  
“Well- if its not too much trouble to ask-..” The old man trailed off a little. Clark beamed and sat down on the sidewalk next to him.    
  
“Thank you.” Clark said as he pulled a unpeeled potato from the man’s pile and started peeling it with his hands instead of the peeler- or a knife. The old man looked bewildered.    
  
“Do you want a knife kid?”    
  
“No, I’ve got it. I peel potatoes all the time back home.” He said as he put the freshly peeled veggie into the peeled pile. The old man laughed a little and continued peeling.    
  
Clark spent a good three hours with the man, helping him peel the potatoes and lugging them back inside. He didn’t struggle at all, and the man’s wise eyes widened at him.    
  
“Tough one aren’t you- where are you from, lad?”    
  
“Well, I work on a farm with my parents, I’m used to this kind of labor. Besides, I like to help when I need it. But I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind- sir.”   
  
“Of course, go on.” The old man put a bucket on the countertop and Clark followed suit before he thought of what he wanted.    
  
“Well- I heard Wayne-Enterprises opened a school close to city limits and they’re having a charity event this wednesday. How do you feel about that?”    
  
Clark looked up to the man’s brows furrowed, deep in thought as he mulled over the question handed to him. Then he just shrugged.    
  
“The school? Definitely a really good thing for Gotham, a wonder Wayne-Enterprises built it to be honest. They’re a medical company, not an educational one. But I think it’s a good contribution to this shit-hole of a city. Sorry- language.”    
  
“Why is this city so.. Bad?”    
  
The old man looked at him like he was stupid then laughed, “I forget you’re not from here, but when I look in your eyes it’s so obvious young man. I’ve lived in this city my entire life, the streets are riddled with crime. I was jumped for the first time at age 7 and just a month ago. The school? Can prevent that from happening to kids, keep them safe like people like me can’t be. It’s a change, the dawn of a new era. Oh listen to me- I probably won’t live to see it.”   
  
“I feel like you will, you’re wise. You’ll tell the tales to future generations, I can tell.” Clark grinned at him and the old man started laughing.    
  
“Oh you’re as strange as they get, I like you.” He looked out of the window, “But its getting late and nice guys like you should get along from where you came from. The worst of Gotham strikes at night. Go on- we can talk in the morning.” He was starting to push Clark out of his small store and Clark let him.    
  
“If you need help just call my name, okay?” Clark asked, then laughed a little.. “Just say ‘Clark’  and I’ll be here for you.”

 

The man laughed quietly, “I got it I got it, now run along. Okay?”

 

Clark nodded and waved to the man on his way out. He never got his name but he got enough information for his article. Plus he was right, the sun was starting to set. He had work to do, he had to start somewhere and he felt like this conversation was that start. 

 

He ran off, through every alley he passed, as fast as he could until he recognized the sidewalk that led to the hotel. Clark had to force himself into a jog. If he missed dinner twice Mr. Jones would probably make him stay in for the day and he honestly wanted to get more involved with the community. It was important for his article.    
  
And he was getting such different views of Gotham, from strangers, even people he knew since he was little. It all felt odd as he walked back into the hotel, reaching into his pocket for his room key. He didn’t look at anyone as he started to make his way to his room. But like clockwork it was Mr. Jones who grabbed him by the shoulder.    
  
“Clark! You’re back, Lucy and Barb said you ran off and-”

“I got an idea for another source and didn’t want to lose it so I chased it,” he shrugged, leaving out the jumping incident. Could it be considered a jump? 

  
“Alright, got it- I just wanted to give you this. I know you’re trying to work hard on this trip but skipping meals is bad.” The teacher pressed a brown paper bag into Clark’s hands, and looking into it he realized it was sandwiches.    
  
“Thanks, Mr. Jones. I appreciate it.” Clark smiled warmly at him, “I’m gonna start writing now. Don’t worry about me. Okay?”   
  
The man sighed deeply, “Alright, just.. Rest easy, don’t overexert yourself too soon.”    
  
Clark pulled a sandwich out of the bag, taking a bite and waving his with it in his hands, “Talk to you in the morning!”     
  
“See you.” Mr. Jones waved back and Clark made his way up the many flights of stairs while eating his sandwich. Classic peanut butter and jelly, nothing could beat it really.    
  
When he got to his room he unlocked the door and walked in, shutting it behind him and putting the paper bag on his nightstand. He remembered that he hadn’t exactly showered yet and the thought made him feel distinctly gross, so shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth he started getting undressed.    
  
He made his way to the bathroom, turning the lights on and running the water. The shower was nice, clean white tile with black diamonds between them. With a glass closing. It was nice and private, and the steaming water felt great on his back.    
  
With the shower he washed off the feeling of shock and interest of the past few days and briefly remembered Barbara from  _ The Sirens _ . He wondered if he would talk to her again before the charity event.    
  
That was a huge guess of yes, he didn’t think he could stay away from the place. If there were more people who came there even later in the night he wanted to meet and talk to them. That was all he could think of as he washed his hair. What if he looked foolish while trying to get information from him? Would they think he was just some.. Weird tourist? Or would they take him seriously like the old man and Barbara did? He wasn’t sure.    
  
Clark just really wasn’t sure.

 


	3. Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark finds trouble where he never expected it to be.

Clark was up before everyone else, going downstairs to fix himself breakfast. He was as quiet as possible, trying not to disturb anyone on his trek down to the lobby. The sun had only just begun to rise and it was a shockingly pretty day considering how bleak the past day was.

 

It was a fine Tuesday, really. Clark munched on a bowl of cereal as he walked out of the hotel. He’d long since been dressed. His leather jacket became daily ware but he left it open to reveal a red flannel shirt and he wore his darker jeans. He supposed he stuck out more as a ‘country’ person but hey. Maybe that’d get him somewhere. 

 

He shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth as he walked the opposite way of where he’d gone his past few nights. For some reason he thought of the balcony croucher. Maybe he’d run into whoever that was again, or the girl with the knife, or Miss Kean. Anything was possible.

 

In books he’d read of something called a red light district. Like the club district except worse, where different groups of crime were located. Underground drug houses, Gotham would definitely have one. If anything just because it was Gotham and Clark read about a man called Penguin on the way down the street. 

 

Penguin, a man who had managed to leave Arkham And was back in Gotham wreaking havoc across the city. The police predicted an uprising between the gangs, maybe even some sort of crime war. All caused by the return of one singular man that Clark didn’t know the face of or anything about.

 

He’d just have to be careful then, he didn’t want to run into someone like that but luck hardly ever was on his side. Maybe he would run into some crime overlord.

 

Clark shivered at the thought, then remembered that he could take anyone with ease. He nearly forgot about that, for a second. No one in Gotham could truly.. hurt him. 

 

Then it hit him, he could  _ help _ Gotham while he was there. Help stop crime, be a witness. He stopped walking and closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds around him. There was the distant honking of a car, a baby crying, but it was all so far. So.. vague.

 

He huffed and started to walk, shaking his head a little. Was it his place to help? Was it really? Surely if he saw something awful he could stop it. But he shouldn’t be looking to get involved. That was crazy.

 

What was crazier was that when he walked under a fire escape the door flung open and the girl from yesterday ran down the steps, shouting over her shoulder.

 

“Bruce come on! Don’t just stand there!” Clark looked at the opening in awe as someone ran out behind her, running at the same speed. Clark had only seen him in black and white photos, in front of old buildings. 

 

It was Bruce Wayne, running down a fire escape behind the girl who had held a knife to Lucy’s throat just yesterday. Clark couldn’t help but stare at him.

 

He was nothing like the pictures, in the papers Bruce Wayne looked stoic, eyes unfocused yet focused at the same time, hair neatly combed, not a hint of what he was feeling showing through the black and white images.

 

In person though there was a fire behind his sapphire eyes, a deep burning ember beneath a sea of blue, and his hair was sticking up in several directions. Even his mouth was pressed in a tight, focused line. Nothing like the pictures, his heart was beating fast in his chest. It was nothing like Clark had heard before, it was like rolling thunder before a storm.

 

Clark looked up and heard the click of a gun, and everything felt like slow motion. He breathed and stepped forward, zooming up the stairs, there were four men, cursing loudly about how they ‘Lost them’ only one held a gun.

 

He caught the bullet in his hand before it went through the opening, crushing it in his hand as he knocked the gun out of his hand. It happened fast, outside of Clark’s mind he knew that the men hadn’t noticed at all what he’d done. He was going so fast they couldn’t see him. 

 

Then he turned and ran from the way he came, Bruce and the girl had only made it to a slightly crowded alley. Clark slowed down next to them, forcing himself into a normal stride.

 

“They were shooting at you guys!” 

 

“Well that’s just what happens here, didn’t I tell you to watch where you go?” It was the girl, he never got her name but he got how rapid her heart was beating as they ran through the alley and into the opposite street. 

 

Clark shrugged, “I guess, I thought I was in an alright spot to be honest. This is the first time I’ve seen something. Like that- what did you guys do?”

 

Bruce spoke this time, “Thank you but that’s not exactly worthy of telling right now-“

 

“You punched someone in the face!” The girl hissed slightly and Clark clenched his hands a little. 

 

“I thought he was expecting it, I reeled back and everything, Selina.” He rolled his eyes and slowed to a jog as they continued on their way.

 

“Yeah, well you should’ve thought about it before you did it.” She said.

 

Clark blinked a little, “You punched someone?”

 

“He had it coming, this way.” Bruce hung a left and Clark suddenly knew where they were. They were close to  _ The Sirens _ and no one seemed to be slowing down or telling him to leave so he kept following.

 

He never would’ve thought he’d be walking down the street with Bruce Wayne, who had just punched someone and nearly got shot at, and a girl named Selina who used knives and seemed to have better street sense than anyone in Gotham. 

 

Yet there he was, behind them as Selina opened up the door to  _ The Sirens _ , and Bruce held the door for Clark with a puzzled look on his face.

 

“May I ask who you are? And why you’re still following us?”

 

Clark shrugged at the question, walking inside of the club carefully, “I’m following you because you haven’t told me to leave, and-“

 

“You?” It was Miss Kean, Clark turned and looked at her. He felt absolutely floored at her presence again. Instead of the jacket and skirt she wore a fur coat, and a shimmery dress that looked like a mermaid’s tail.

 

“Uh.. me?” Clark replied.

 

“What are you doing with- them?” She gestured wildly at Bruce and Selina.

 

“How the hell do you two know each other?” Selina folded her arms over her chest, tilting her head. “Hm?”

 

Barbara laughed at her, “We met a few nights ago. He’s just darling isn’t he? Sweet face, shame he’s in Gotham. It’s good to see you again, Clark.” She waved at him with gloved fingers. Her behavior was different from when he last saw her.

 

“Clark?” Bruce asked, Clark looked down at him. Tried to ignore his questioning gaze, the suddenly dull look in his eyes. It was like a mask was put over his face.

 

He sighed softly, all eyes were on him and he felt like his stomach was flipping. 

 

“Yes, pleasure to meet you all. I’m Clark Kent, I’m here from Smallville, Kansas on a journalism trip for a little under three weeks. Yes I’m a farmer, no I am not dumb.” He revised his normal introduction to fit what was going on around him.

 

Barbara clapped a little, “There, now you guys know him too. Why are you here?” Her question was directed at Selina and the girl shrugged,

 

“Don’t ask me, I only followed.” 

 

She turned to Bruce, “I know your event is being held here but you could’ve waited till then to come. After all minors aren’t allowed in clubs and-“

 

“We got a lead on Strange, I wanted to ask if you wanted to follow it. Since I’m not supposed to be here I guess I can go to someone else.. I know Penguin wants..”

 

“I want the lead, god just say what you know next time.” Barbara rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the counter, looking at Clark.

 

He felt like a stranger in the midst of it all. He didn’t know who this  _ Strange _ person was at all. Hell, he never would’ve thought in a million years that he’d be sitting in a club with Bruce Wayne of all people. 

 

“He’s at an underground labratory,” Bruce began steadily, “Making progress on  _ Ellusion _ he’s already made it public. If more people get their hands on it, more lives will be at stake.” 

 

“What’s  _ Ellusion _ ?” Selina asked, Clark silently thanked her.

 

Bruce looked at her, then looked at the floor.

 

“ _ Ellusion  _ is a hallucinogenic drug that puts victims in an amnesia like state, leaving them at risk for having fake memories implanted. Not only that but the side effects can leave them with actual amnesia. No one in recovery can recall when they took the drug or when it was forced into them. That’s all we know.” 

 

“Ooh, you’re getting so much better at giving speeches, bravo Mr. Wayne.” Barbara was grinning wildly. 

 

Selina sat down on the ground, “So you are going after Strange, right?”

 

“I already said I was.” 

 

Clark blinked a little, “I can help find him, I’m good at finding most things.” All he’d need was a recording of his voice, even a video. Once he got his heartbeat he could track him like a bloodhound. 

 

“Oh- no, I can’t let you help find him. You don’t know what this is, Clark,” Barbara got up and her hands were on his shoulders, “You’re a nice boy, and not from here. You should be staying safe.” 

 

Clark looked over her shoulder, focusing hard on a gun that was on a chair, right where the bullet would exit.

 

Everything felt hot and a beam shot from his eyes, melting the gun entirely. Barbara whipped around, gasping at what he’d done.

 

At first he prepared for the backlash, for them to yell and question what he just did. It was a risk he took, and no one moved for a second.

 

Then Bruce moved, kneeling in front of the chair to look at the still molten metal from the gun. He was just looking at it, before pulling out a pen and poking it.

 

“I.. think I can handle myself.” Clark mumbled.

 

Selina nodded, “Clearly.”

 

“You melted my gun,” Barbara walked over to where Bruce was kneeling over the melted puddle that used to be the gun.

 

“Incredible,” Bruce stood back up, walking to Clark with the metal dripping from his pen. “Is that all you can do?

 

“You sound weirdly calm about this.” Clark looked at him, and Bruce shrugged.

 

“I think we’ve all seen things.. worse or similar.”

 

“You’re kidding?” 

 

“You’ll find I’m not one for jests, Clark.” Bruce touched the metal as it cooled off in the club’s chilly air. “Strange created monsters in Arkham, splicing DNA. So far we have Mr.Freeze, Firefly, the chameleon guy, Fish. I know there’s others out there.”

 

“Strange himself is a monster,” Barbara snapped slightly, “Clark how did you do that?”

 

He shrugged, “Born that way, well, it developed over time. It’s a long story.” 

 

“Is it all you can do, though?” Bruce asked again.

 

“Get off his case, we just met him.” Selina kicked the floor, hands stuffed into her pockets.

 

“It’s fine, this is the first time someone didn’t look instantly repulsed other than my parents. And I’m strong, like super strong, and I can run faster than a bullet. But that’s for reference.”

 

“Interesting.” Bruce put the pen back into his pocket, walking to the window and peaking out of it slightly.

 

“Just interesting?” Clark wanted to stand next to him, so he did. In half a second he was by his side. Bruce was two heads shorter than him, and his heart still beat like thunder in his chest. Oddly calm in comparison to Barbara and Selina’s.

 

“Mhm, you said you were born like that. So it’s interesting.” 

 

“You know I’m writing an article on your charity event tomorrow. It’s kind of great to meet you now. Makes it easier to ask for an interview.”

 

Bruce looked up at him, “Sure, we can go to my manor after the event is over. Make sure to interview people earlier though. Get here fifteen minutes before it starts, and get opinions from people with good jewelry and watches. They’ll have the best things to say.”

 

“Oh, okay. Thank you- but after the event it’ll be-“ Clark hardly got his sentence out before Bruce had his leg in the air, centimeters away from kicking Clark in the face if it hadn’t been for the fact that he caught his foot.

 

Clark debated knocking him over but Bruce lifted himself easily in Clark’s hand, second foot coming off the ground. It was a balancing act and Clark felt his heart ramming in his chest.

 

“Bruce what the hell are you doing?!” Barbara yelled and Clark could only stare up at Bruce as he balanced in his hand.

 

Bruce kicked off of him, landing on the ground with the grace of a panther before it struck its prey.

 

“Seeing how strong he is.”

 

“You could’ve asked him first, Jesus. It’s rude to do that to people. He should’ve dropped you.” 

 

Clark would never. He was shocked that Bruce could pull off such a feat without an ounce of hesitation. His heart didn’t race, he just did it and knew he could pull it off. What kind of confidence did that take?”

 

“It’s.. its fine. Where did you learn to do that?” 

 

Bruce shrugged, “Just practice.”

 

Clark folded his arms over his chest, “You expect me to believe that?”

 

“No, but it’s basically the truth.”

 

Selina sighed dramatically, “Oh my god.”

 

Bruce smiled slightly, “Also I think we’re good to go now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow Clark. Make sure to get your sources though, the good, bad, and ugly. It makes things more fun. See you.” 

 

He left, Selina following behind him with a wave of her hand, and when Clark looked at them through the window he saw them run down the street, into another building entirely.

 

“Has he always been like that?”

 

“Bruce?” 

 

Clark nodded and looked at Barbara as she tilted her head.

 

“Yeah, I don’t know. No one here knew him that well before the accident with his parents, he’s only gotten on the streets this much sort of recently. He’s no threat though. Just wants answers like most people.” She went behind the counter and pulled out a martini glass and a bottle of vodka.

 

“Who is Strange?” 

 

Barbara’s hand clenched tightly around the bottle, her pulse racing all of the sudden. But she smiled.

 

“Suppose you’re in the loop now,” she clicked her tongue and poured the vodka into the glass. “He’s the ex-head of Arkham.A doctor of sorts, a horrible doctor. Experimented on his patients, the dead, anyone who stepped foot into that place. Now he’s developing drugs for someone above him, you heard about it. Personally, I want to get back at him to get to someone else. Use him as bait, and..”

 

She looked at him longingly, then smiled, “You really don’t need to get involved. You’re on a field trip and owe me 200 papers as soon as they’re printed. Focus on that.” 

 

“No offense but my school paper is a little lame in comparison, Miss Kean. If this drug gets out, there won’t be a Gotham to write about. Besides, I can handle myself.”

 

Barbara laughed and sipped from her martini glass, smiling over at him.

 

“You’re such a good kid, Clark. A naturally nice person. So here’s Gotham lesson 3. I’m sure someone gave you lesson two if you already met Bruce Wayne.” She stepped over to him, heels clicking on the floor.

 

“Don’t get involved in affairs that other people start, just mind your own till you get home.” 

 

Clark laughed, “Alright Miss Kean, But if I see something happening, don’t expect me to stand aside.” 

 

“I won’t, just don’t look for trouble. Or I’ll find you.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled and started walking to the door, “Have a great day, okay?” 

 

“I always do, Clark, I always do. Go on, back to your hotel with you! Shoo!” She waved her hands at him and he walked back out into the wet air.

 

It made his chest burn as he started to walk back to his hotel, looking down at his hand. The same one he caught Bruce’s foot with. It had the tracks from his shoe, dark lines over his pale skin.

 

Then it actually settled into his skin, his mind, everywhere. He had met Bruce Wayne, he was going to talk to Bruce Wayne alone after the charity event, and Bruce Wayne for some reason had impeccable balancing skills and strength. 

 

Clark started walking faster once the hotel came into view, running inside.

 

“Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!!!” He yelled as loud as he could, jogging down the hallways until the stout man came into his field of vision. Clark halted to a complete stop, taking a deep breath.    
  
“Yes, Clark- what happened?”     
  


“I got an interview with Bruce Wayne!” He shouted louder than he had meant to and Mr. Jones jumped slightly.    
  


“You’re joking- oh my stars, you’re not! Amazing, I’m proud of you. Make sure you bring the camera to the event tomorrow! You’ve got a big day ahead of you, son.”    
  


Clark nodded, “I know, I know! I’ll pick it up before I leave. I need to get started on this article right away!”

  
  
  
  



	4. The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day is finally here and Clark can't keep his nerves down.

Clark got up earlier than intended, the sky was still dark and he had to reach across the bed to turn on the lamp. He squinted in the light and looked across to the alarm clock. Bright red numbers read  _ 4:15  _ and it made Clark want to yell. He had a day and a half ahead of him. Being up so early meant- we’ll just building up anxiety till the event. More than 12 hours before it started. 

He sighed deeply through his nose, sitting up and rubbing his face to get the sleep from his eyes. While he was up he may as well start writing. Clark got up and walked to the top of the dresser, picking up the notebook that he hadn’t touched since he’d been on the bus there. He sat back down on the bed and started writing:

_ The Wayne Charity Event: _

_ Wednesday marked an important day in Gotham, or rather an important event celebrating the opening of a new school funded by Wayne Enterprises. _

_ “The school is definitely good for Gotham,” said a local restaurant owner, “A wonder that Wayne Enterprises built it, they’re a medical company, not an educational company. But I think it’s a good contribution to the city.” _

_ Gotham has one of the highest crime rates in the U.S, the school was built around the city limits away from the worst parts of the city. It’s also a boarding school, providing students who attend a safe place to live if need be. _

Clark reread what he wrote, cutting it off there because honestly, he still didn’t have a lot of information. Just a humble man’s opinion about it. A great opinion, but still. He tapped his pencil on the paper a few times. Then he looked at the clock.

It was only five in the morning, he really needed a plan for the day. He started writing on the same page he began the article on, he’d just type up his notes when he got back to Smallville anyways.

_ Shower _

_ Breakfast _

_ Get camera _

_ Write? _

_ Event _

No, that didn’t feel right either. Maybe Miss Kean would let him help set up the event. He was better doing that. Plus he could properly interview her along the way. Two for one deal right there. He wasn’t going to miss out on that.

As quickly as he could he got into the bathroom and started on his shower, scrubbing everything clean. He wished he would have brought some form of cologne for the event. That would really help, hotel body wash didn’t have too strong of a smell. Just enough to get clean. Which was enough, and not enough at the same time.

He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with one of the overly fluffy towels and walking back towards his dresser to get dressed. Just a tee shirt and jeans, he did have to wear a suit later on.

Clark pulled a wrinkle out of the shirt and nearly left his room before remembering to put socks and shoes on. He sighed as he knelt down to tie the laces. He couldn’t tell if he was tired or nervous about later, but he didn’t want to be.

As he walked out of the room, officially leaving he looked out at the smoking balcony like he’d down nearly every morning. The sun was just rising and no one was out there. The golden light streaked the elegant stone and shone through the window in a way that gave him hope.

He practically breathed in the sunlight on its own, stretching slightly as he turned down the hallway. Clark had yet to actually get Mr. Jones’ room number so he just walked down all of the hallways with his x-ray vision until he saw the cameras first.

On the third floor, he ran down there and calmed his pace to a walk as he whistled down the hallway, catching his teacher’s heartbeat and knocking on the furthest door down.

“Mr. Jones, I need the camera!” He didn’t mean to yell, he heard a lot of shuffling inside but chose to ignore it for a second until he heard a thud, “Mr. Jones?” He asked, tapping on the door with his knuckles.

“I’ve got it Clark, calm down!” The door opened with a wide swing, Mr. Jones still in his pajamas as he held the fancy camera, “C’mon, take it.”

Clark grinned, taking it and wrapping the strap around his neck so he wouldn’t drop it.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No problem, now go out and make journalism magic!”

He nodded and waved to him, “Will do!”

Clark walked away, turning the camera on as he walked throughout the hotel to give him something to do. He took a few test shots of the chandelier, and the lobby desk before he sat down and looked out of the doors.

Even in the early morning, Gotham was bustling with life. Many people were just getting to work but the longer that he watched he saw more quiet crime. Sly pick pocketing from little kids, adults sneaking change about. A lot of pouches were handed back and forth without even a glance to one another. Clark watched for nearly an hour before getting up and walking around aimlessly. He needed something to do.

Clark looked at the bigger clock in the lobby, silently thinking whatever god was above. At least it was seven, that gave him a better excuse to leave the hotel earlier. Not in search of anything, not really.

He walked out of the hotel silently, smiling as he got onto the street and made his way towards  _ The Sirens _ . He had no idea if Barbara would be there, and if she wasn’t he’d just honestly walk some more. He wasn’t really worried about it much.

He turned down the familiar road, it looked odd without all of the signs lit up but it actually wasn’t all that bad. Just felt entirely different, like he shouldn’t be going down that street. After a few years of.. Incidents in Smallville he learned to trust his instincts. 

If something felt wrong it meant something was wrong, Clark scanned the area with his vision for a few seconds. Nothing was out of place, hell- it confirmed that Barbara wasn’t even at  _ The Sirens _ but he felt his hair standing on edge. He switched back to normal vision, taking a deep breath in- then out again. Was he just tired? That  wouldn’t make sense but he did wake up a lot earlier than normal. The sun was shining brightly. It didn’t make sense. Not at all.

A black blur moved in the corner of his eyes but when he turned to face it, it wasn’t a blur anymore. A woman knelt on the sidewalk, hands on her head. She was whispering and Clark walked closer, trying to listen over the street noise.

“I was going, where was I going? I need to go- oh dear.” 

  
“Ma’am?” Clark asked, walking closer to her. She looked frantic, eyes darting every which way. Her heart was beating abnormally fast. “Do you need help?” He started to get closer to her, he debating breaking into full sprint- but before he could even make a decision, loud sirens came at him from all sides.    
  
Not for him, his ears were left ringing and the woman only seemed to panic further. She was on her feet, swaying a little as the cars started to park next to them. He looked at the cops as the exited their cars, guns already raised. Clark felt a spike of anger jolt in him and he looked at the frantic woman again.   
  
She was rocking back and forth in place, hands over her ears. She was.. Sobbing? Definitely sobbing, Clark walked over and knelt in front of her, putting a hand on her shoulder as calmly as he could.    
  
He was trying to distract her, something was wrong. When the woman looked up at him her pupils left only room for a thin rim of her irises to show through.    
  
“You were drugged,” he felt stupid saying it out loud. She only looked at him quizzidly, reaching her shaking hands out and squeezing him by the shoulders.    
  
“Real, you’re real- you’re real?”    
  
“I am. Do you want help standing up?” He asked, trying to sound as calm as possible. Her heartbeat had slowed down significantly. Which was enough, just getting her calm was enough. She needed a hospital. He knew she needed one, her hands still trembled slightly.    
  
The woman took a deep breath in, then started laughing. It was loud, and manic. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she reeled her arm back.    
  
“No!” She yelled, voice shrill. Her laughter got worse. Clark dodged what could’ve been an interesting blow to his face, rising to his feet and taking a step back. She followed him, staggering forward. He kept backing up, looking to the police who were slowly walking over- to restrain her.    
  
Clark played the role of distraction way too well, he sighed a little and started to walk away once the two big men managed to cuff her. Her screaming got worse, and people were just staring and watching in twisted awe at the event. They put her in the back of the police car and Clark could only watch as it drove away. He could still hear her screaming, and he couldn’t help but to clench his fists to relieve some of the stress he felt.    
  
He hadn’t witnessed a drug trip- okay he hadn’t seen drugs before. He’d heard of them before, and was told to not do them. But seeing what it could do firsthand made a rock form in his stomach as the woman’s screaming became more distance. He realized how they could be life destroying- horrible things.     
  
A hand on his shoulder dragged him from his thoughts and he looked up quickly. Into the face of a man with slightly gingered hair, and a strong jawline. Clark’s eyes drifted down his uniform, looking at his badge in his hand.    
  
“You handled that really well, it can be hard seeing something like that,” said the detective, keeping his voice low as if Clark would break.    
  
“Hm- yeah.” He made it a point to shrug, “I just didn’t want her to get hurt. She was probably a good person, y’know?”    
  
“Probably, that’s one way of putting it- look,” the man sighed a little, “I’m Detective Gordon from the GCPD. What you just saw was the effects from a drug called-”    
  
“ _ Ellusion _ ?” He asked, raising a brow. He cut Gordon off quickly, not to be rude but because he knew about him. One of Gotham’s articles made it into Smallville- if he remembered correctly it was something about a hero cop and now the Smallville Police Department were dying to get some sort of action.    
  
A shame nothing happened in Smallville, Clark knew at least two people who would’ve crapped their pants just from seeing Gotham. He smiled at the thought, shaking his head as uncurled his fists.    
  
“How did you know about it?”    
  
“I’ve learned that talk about drugs travels really fast through this city, really fast. I didn’t think word of mouth could move that quickly. It definitely has to do with population, right?”    
  
“Er-” Gordon paused, smiling awkwardly at Clark. In return Clark beamed at him. A smile radiated by the sun on his face.    
  
“Sorry, I’m here on a school trip. So I’m trying to take in the.. Odd culture of Gotham.  _ Ellusion _ is the drug that’s giving people weird amnesia attacks. I think.”    
  
Gordon looked at him with a puzzled expression, “You pay a lot of attention.”    
  
“Well, it’s hard not too! Compared to where I’m from this is brain meltingly exciting.”    
  
For now Clark just tried to play the weird tourist teenager with the cops, he kept up a mild chat with Detective Gordon. It was mainly questions about what he knew.. How he handed the woman. He answered very plainly to that, because it was simple.    
  
“I just tried to approach her calmly, like she was normal. She fell for it for a minute until you guys pulled guns. Maybe when you deal with victims of this drug you should try offering slight kindness, and understanding. It’d make things go smoother.” Perhaps he was a little harsh in stating what he thought was right. Gordon’s face contorted in thought and he just nodded.    
  
A nervous laugh escaped the man, “Right- of course. Thank you for your help again--..?”    
  
“Clark.”    
  
“Clark- see you around. Take care of yourself out here, it can get dangerous.”    
  
“Yes sir!” He waved at the detective as he went back into his cars. There wasn’t another police officer in sight and that felt like it was for the better. Once they cleared people started to move on with their lives as if nothing happened and it was oddly calming.   
  
He was getting way to used to the city and he’d only been there for four days.    
  
***

It was nearing four o’clock and Clark made it a point to get ready so he could arrive early. He was already in his dress pants, buttoning the last button of his white shirt before tucking it in. He wanted to make an impression, not as a tourist but as a journalist.    
  
He threw on his matching jacket and carefully pinned the tie onto it. Smiling at himself in the mirror. It was quite the outfit. A sleek black suit with a red satin tie, he looked at himself for a moment before reaching out for the finishing piece.    
  
Thick rimmed glasses, they didn’t help him see at all but they did wonders for making him seem.. Normal. They were pretty clunky, and a little too big for his face but as he put them on he felt like he could breathe easier. They were his mask, he wasn’t Clark Kent from Smallville. He was  _ Clark Kent, journalist extraordinaire.  _ On a mission to interview as many people as he possibly could.     
  
He got his dress shoes on and picked up the camera from his bed, hanging it around his neck like he had done just earlier that day. He felt ready, like he could take on the entire world on his back. Invincible. He loved when he felt that feeling, because he rarely felt it at all anymore.    
  
Several other students were going to the event for their own articles, and he pooled into the lobby with them after locking his doors. His classmates were also finely dressed, Lucy especially was wearing a silver, sparkly dress that he guessed she got in the shopping district after he left.    
  
Clark tried to stay quiet as Mr. Jones started to walk them outside, they were all going early. Which should be fine, everyone was chatting about who they might meet. How they were going to somehow make connections with the rich folk. It was laughable, because Clark had met one of Gotham’s elite.   
  
Bruce Wayne, who tried to kick him and was investigating a drug on his own and apparently spent a lot more time in the streets that the press hadn’t caught. Or maybe it was some well kept secret that billionaire Bruce Wayne, who funded a school on the outskirts of town, liked to run around and try and solve things that truthfully were over his head.    
  
It was admirable, really admirable. Clark didn’t think he would ever have the guts but earlier he proved that he did. That woman came into his mind, he wondered if she was in the hospital getting help.. He hoped so.    
  
_ The Sirens _ came into view and Mr. Jones’ loud voice broke the odd chatter.    
  
“Alright everyone! I know you’re excited but remember to remain courteous, humble, and most importantly-”    
  
“Hungry!” All of them said it in sync, even Clark. It was an inspirational mantra that they had been told since they started the class.     
  
Mr. Jones was beaming and he held the door open for everyone. When Clark walked in he noticed immediately that it was a lot brighter, fairy lights were strung about the ceiling in elegant patterns and the stage was taken up by a small jazz band who were just filling the space with ambiance.    
  
The energy was good, a woman was laughing, glass of champagne in hand as she talked about her recent vacation to any willing ear. There were even kids running around, laughing. When  _ The Sirens _ was actually full it was something else entirely. It was no longer a club, it was a venue.    
  
Clark snapped a picture of the stage, adjusting his shutter speed in hopes of getting the best lighting out of it. He needed to interview people but it was only four thirty now. Shouldn’t Bruce be here-    
  
Right, they were talking at the manor. How could he have nearly forgotten? Damn. Clark felt awkward for a second as he gazed at the rich folk in their shining dresses and velvet suits. It was an interesting look for sure and this one man seemed oddly inviting.    
  
The man was dressed in a green suit with a bowler hat, and Clark approached him quietly.    
  
“Excuse me sir?” Clark cleared his throat, “Would it be alright if I interviewed you- uh only two questions?”    
  
“Oh of course, how flattering.” The man grinned at him and it reminded him of Miss Kean’s grin. Wicked but friendly. “Ask away, my friend.”    
  
“Alright,” He made sure to focus on nothing but this man’s words. He forgot to grab his recording device but he was positive he was fine without it. For now he just needed to play the clumsy reporter with the too large glasses and awkward gait. “Firstly, what do you think of the Wayne Enterprises to open a school.”    
  
“Hmm… what a good question,” the man pondered, gloved hand resting on his chin before he snapped his fingers. “I like it because hooray- it’s a school. Learning and all that jazz- but. And the but needs to be in italics when you write this, I feel like it’ll become a new.. Target of the criminal groups. You follow? I mean it's a bunch of kids in one place, great for holding ransom. Granted most schools here are like that already. That enough for you?”    
  
“Yes, sir.” He smiled a little at his response. It was realistic, and perfect. “Last question, may I get your name?”    
  
“Of course! Its Ed Nygma.”    
  
Clark nodded a few times, “Thank you for your time,  Mr. Nygma. It’s appreciated, enjoy your night!” He waved awkwardly and turned away from him, walking off into a crowd of people. He debated how many more interviews he needed. He supposed he needed one negative one.    
  
So he walked up to the woman who was laughing about her vacation. Her long blonde hair was in a curly updo and she wore a necklace of diamonds around her neck, red dress flowing to the floor. He approached her carefully.    
  
“Excuse me, Miss? May I ask for an interview?”    
  
“Oh aren’t you just  _ darling _ !!!” The woman was drunk already and Clark had a deep feeling that this would be one of the longest nights of his life.. But also one of the best.    
  
He struck lucky with her, she talked about how she would’ve expected a healthcare plan from Wayne Enterprises, a cure to a disease, but not a school. Clark kept it memorized, checking the clock.    
  
Again, he was lucky. It was already five o’clock. The jazz stopped entirely and Miss Kean took the stage. She wore a beautiful black dress. She looked classy.. More uptown New York in the 60’s and not Gotham currently.    
  
“Good evening everyone, and thank you for coming to our lovely celebration of Wayne Enterprises newest contribution to Gotham!” People clapped after she took a pause. “Now we know you’re not here to listen to me talk all night. So I’ll leave it for young Mr. Wayne to take the stage.”    
  
She winked somewhere from the left and people clapped even more as Bruce Wayne stepped onto the stage.    
  
Clark felt nearly floored by his presence. He looked firm, stoic, and serious. He wore a navy suit with a black tie. Elegant, refined. His wavy black hair was gelled to the side and he held his chin high.    
  
His heart jumped into his throat when Bruce looked at him, the blue of his eyes were captivating under the stage light. Electric, nearly magnetic. Clark stepped closer to the stage as the clapping slowed.    
  
“It is my greatest pleasure to see all of you gathered here tonight. The school is very important to me. Education is important to the city, without education we wouldn’t have the people in the city that we have today, and it is to the utmost importance that Wayne Enterprises does its best to keep Gotham City safe. Both in healthcare, and in schooling. Thank you.” He bowed on stage and the crowd roared with praise.    
  
Clark heard a woman whisper behind him and he turned to look at her. Only to hear,    
  
“He’s so young, it's incredible that he thinks the way he does.”    
  
He memorized that line, repeating it in his head over and over again as he stood there. Everything felt stiff for a moment. He hated how his perspective could be shifted so easily. Bruce Wayne was young- well he and Clark were the same age but still.    
  
“You alright, Clark?” It was Lucy. He looked down at her and smiled,    
  
“Yeah just- Bruce Wayne is amazing. Isn’t he?”    
  
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you! Criminy its like you just don’t listen to our conversations and.. Ooh be right back.” She patted his shoulder and made her way over to a group of obviously rich looking people. He laughed a little and started to try and mingle in the crowd.    
  
But he was out of his element, they were discussing stocks, what Wayne Enterprises was doing next. It was all so bizarre, especially when the band kicked back onto full speed. Maybe he’d admire that for a while- no. He needed pictured.    
  
He wheeled around and took a shot of the crowd, the shutters clicking satisfyingly in his hand. He wished he would’ve gotten one of Bruce on stage. Really did. Dammit, that would’ve been perfect. Now he’d have to settle and-    
  
His eyes caught on Bruce, as he talked to a group of people. Clark purposefully tuned out because the lighting was perfect. The teenager had his hand out as he described something and Clark took the picture. All of the people surrounding Bruce were making the same face. It was second best, but alright. The lighting was better probably, Clark could only hope that he had the settings right.  

 

Clark managed to get lost in an actual crowd for a few hours, wavering from place to place and asking for interviews. Just in case, so far he had one from the senator’s daughter, another from a bank owner. Then a few teachers, which was even better! It was especially fun when he got to the drunk people. Who called him darling, talked about how kind his face was. That was something he wasn’t used to. Hell, he couldn’t not look nice. That was absurd.    
  
He floated on cloud nine for a while, his nervousness leaving him as he discussed politics and even economics with a few business men. A man with a bright face called him bright and said that he would do something great one day. Even though Clark really felt like he was doing something great at that moment. He was only drawn out when he felt someone tug at his elbow.    
  
“Hey, Kansas- are you ready to leave?” It was Bruce, and Clark felt his throat close slightly.    
  
It wasn’t like the last time he saw him. Bruce wasn’t running from goons, hair windblown, slightly bruised but not showing the pain. He wasn’t staring out of a window waiting for a free moment to make a run for it. His presence here was looming, firm. Like nothing would dare touch him, he wreaked of confidence and Clark felt.. Small despite being about a head and a half taller than him.     
  
“U-Uhm- yeah. Right, interview at your place. Got it.”    
  
“Oh, Mr. Wayne you’re leaving so soon?” A woman interrupted them and Bruce smiled at her. It was like a mask though, it didn’t reach his eyes at all.    
  
“I have homework to do, schooling is very important after all. Besides, it's better to get sleep whenever I can.” He answered smoothly, not hesitating. “You understand.”    
  
“Yes! Oh yes, aren’t you a doll! You care so much for education, such a bright young man-” she rambled on and on for what felt like minutes before Clark looked away and at the ground.    
  
Bruce reached for him, touching his elbow again. It felt like an oddly close gesture, but soon enough he realized he was just being pulled out of  _ The Sirens _ entirely. Bruce just led Clark like he was a show pony.    
  
Once they were outside they both stood at the edge of the sidewalk, a black  _ Rolls-Royce  _ pulled up and a man exited the driver’s side.    
  
He was pristine, salt and pepper hair slicked back but he only wore a button up shirt, slacks, and a vest. He opened the back seat door with a slight hum.    
  
“After you Master B.” Oh, he was British. Clark’s eyes widened at the revelation. Gotham really was a place for everybody it felt like.    
  
“No, Alfred. After our guest.” Bruce gestured to the inside of the car and Clark shuffled, looking at the man awkwardly before sticking his hand out. The man just raised his brow.    
  
“There’s no need for such pleasantries, sir-”    
  
“Please, it's a pleasure to meet you. I’m Clark- and you are?” His voice cracked and he cursed himself mentally.    
  
“I’m Alfred Pennyworth, Master Wayne’s butler and guardian. You can call me Alfred though, don’t worry about being too proper. Lord knows no one ever is.” Alfred shook Clark’s hand firmly before letting go. “Now off into the car before it starts bloody raining.”    
  
Clark slid into the car uncomfortably, to the edge of the door. Bruce sat down next to him and buckled his seatbelt. It was all Clark could do to follow suit. Nervousness buzzed in his veins.    
  
Bruce let out a tremendous sigh, forehead touching the back of the seat in front of him as he took off his tie, “The fakeness of them, I swear. It wouldn’t hurt for them to be genuine for five seconds.”    
  
“Indeed, that’s Gotham’s elite for you though.” Alfred answered, starting to drive off into the night as though he’d done it millions of times. And he probably did, Clark realized.    
  
“Wait- they were fake? They seemed interested during interviews and-”    
  
“Everyone who has a name in Gotham tends to be fake, now what they said to you might not be but oh the smiling. You know the-” Bruce demonstrated the fake smile and Clark snorted a little. “Its ridiculous. They could show their true colors, I’ve already seen them before. Sorry-” he cut himself off and took a breath in. Calming himself down.    
  
Clark listened to his heartbeat, it was still like thunder. Loud, thumping in his chest like a mighty drum.    
  
“Don’t worry. If you don’t mind can I start the questions now?”    
  
“Please do.”    
  
“Alright- okay,” Clark fiddled with the camera a little, “Why fund a school?”    
  
“Education is important, and I honestly just wanted to build a safe spot for Gotham’s youth. Without education they won’t be able to be guided in the right direction. I hope that with the school it can help steer students into the path of rightness. Not get involved heavily in the city’s crime like a lot already are.”   
  
He blinked a few times and looked back down at his lap. “Is that really all?”    
  
“Yeah, actually. It's not a cover up, not something to do to just look good. It’s a school. Schools are needed, and honestly finding teachers was the only hard part of it all. Is the interview over?”    
  
“I- sorry, I forgot all of the questions that I was going to ask you. I mean- you’re Bruce Wayne.”    
  
“Mhm.” He answered cooly, then leaned back in the seat. “Sorry, I’m actually really tired.”    
  
“Why?” Clark asked, and Bruce laughed softly- and it felt weird. Yet.. normal?    
  
“I couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about this.. Drug. Everything, that your class has the potential to get drugged is also scary. You’re a good person, and-” He put his face in his hands for a second. “Just a lot, I don’t want to kill the mood.”    
  
“Kill the mood then, I’m serious. What are you so worried about right now?”    
  
Bruce looked at him like he was insane, “I don’t- I just-... It’s hard to really explain.”    
  
“What Master Bruce is trying to say is that he’s too tired to think of a better way to explain himself. Hasn’t slept in days- won’t take medicine. Entirely disobedient, don’t let his face fool you Mr. Clark.” Alfred piped in.    
  
Clark found himself laughing at both the sass and Bruce’s scowl and indignant look out of the window. Matching his butler’s sarcasm easily.    
  
“And just like magic- we’re at the manor. Stunning parking job, really.”    
  
“Why thank you, sir. If only you could park the same way.” The car came to a stop, and Clark fidgeted a little.    
  
“I hit the tree one time and you’d swear it’s a crime,” Bruce looked over at Clark and unbuckled their seatbelts. “Are you feeling alright, Clark?”    
  
“Uh- just wondering why I’m still.. Here? I guess. Is that weird?”    
  
Bruce looked at Alfred through the rear view mirror and then back at Clark. “I assumed you’d spend the night. We planned to interview here, besides. In the morning you might remember your questions. It's the least I can do, after all you did save my life.”

 

Oh, it was some weird form of repayment then? Odd. Honestly. When Clark heard of Bruce Wayne he knew he was mysterious but not.. This odd. Maybe this was a side of him that the press didn’t cover at all. Or maybe it was just because Bruce- as Alfred had stated, was exhausted. He wasn’t sure.   
  
What he was sure of was getting out of the car and following both Alfred Pennyworth, the witty butler, and Bruce Wayne, the exhausted teenager into Wayne Manor. In the dark he couldn’t see it very well, but as Alfred opened the door the light pooled out and Clark had to actually squint a little.    
  
“Oops, forgot about the lights before we left. Now then Mr. Clark, a room has already been prepared for you. Up the stairs, closest door on your left. Can’t miss it. Now off to bed with you two lads, it’s awfully late; Man can’t survive on party buzz alone.”

  
Clark couldn’t remember it being late and luckily a grandfather clock proved him wrong. It was already ten at night though. So much time had passed, and he actually.. Enjoyed himself oddly enough.    
  
He was ridiculously tired though, the fact that he woke up before dawn actually settling in in a way that Clark hadn’t felt since he was younger. Bruce and himself walked up the stairs, their steps syncing in with one another.    
  
“Goodnight, I hope you sleep well and enjoy your room.” Bruce gave a little wave before stepping off into the hallway. Only in the house lighting did Clark notice the dark, purple-red circles under the billionaire’s eyes. Jesus.    
  
“Night, you too. Actually sleep, you kinda look like a racoon,” Clark said and Bruce just snorted. A door shut and he assumed that was the door to Bruce’s room as he stepped into the guest room prepared for him.    
  
It was nothing like the hotel, but Clark couldn’t take it in fully. His eyes were already drooping and he only got his jacket, shoes, and tie off before collapsing onto the very comfortable bed, sighing into the pillow.    
  
Everything felt unreal, as he closed his eyes he smiled. Someway somehow, here Clark was, in Wayne Manor. Talking casually to  _ Bruce Wayne _ . 

 

Ma would have a fit when he told her about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is long because I want it to be, also sorry for the lack of consistency in updates. Midterms kicked my ass royally and work had me busy for a sec. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. I'm also gonna do an F.A.Q type thing where I explain what exactly is the lore of this au I created because?? I want too and its my story so meneh. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr if u want to @brunchhater and ask any questions there if you have them.


	5. Manorisms

Clark awoke to a hand on his shoulder and didn’t think about it for a few seconds, until the memories of last night crashed into him like a speeding train. 

“Shoot! Did I oversleep- I’m so sorry,” he finally looked up at Alfred Pennyworth, the butler he was introduced to last night. He swallowed anxiously. 

“It’s quite fine, you haven’t slept that long, mate. Don’t panic now. I just came in to let you know that breakfast is ready.” Alfred’s face was warm, and kind. Clark couldn’t look away from him, stuttering to find the right words to use with someone so.. Educated. 

He finally managed though, his voice getting caught in his throat. 

“Oh, okay. Yeah- you didn’t- I could’ve-” 

“Helped? No can do, I happen to enjoy cooking for more than two people sometimes. I also retrieved some of your clothes from your hotel.” 

Clark blinked several times, looking at the clock quietly. It was ten in the morning, when did Alfred manage to go to his hotel- cook- wait early mornings were probably normal for him. He was thinking too hard and too much. 

“How?” He asked.

“It was quite difficult, I walked in and said I need to talk to Clark Kent’s supervisor. And your teacher came down and I explained that you are staying with the Wayne’s for an unpredicted amount of time. And a boy needs clothes.” He was grinning. “Difficult, see?” 

He grinned back at him, “I should’ve guessed. Thank you.” 

“Right, now get dressed before the food gets cold- chop chop.” He turned and walked out of the heavy door, closing it behind him without so much as looking. 

Clark let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Being around Alfred was something else entirely, he carried the grace of an important man but had the tongue of a snake and could spit venom in such light ways. Truly inspirational if he were being honest with himself. 

Now that he was awake enough he took his time to actually look at the room. It was honestly incredible, he thought his hotel room was fancy- that was laughable compared to what he was looking at. 

Everything was decorated immaculately, the mahogany wood floor was shiny and complemented by the burgundy walls and a deep green rug just by the foot of the bed. There was one nightstand, a chest of drawers, and a wardrobe. An old oil painting hung at the head of the bed and upon further inspection he realized it was of old Gotham. He didn’t know how far back. 

He stopped looking at the decor and quietly walked over to the chest of drawers, a good stack of his clothes rested against the wood and he felt like he should’ve brought more.. Dress clothes. Something better at least, just to look nice. 

After sifting through them he settled on a brown sweater and a pair of his darker jeans, that was as nice as he could possibly get for the most part. At least he was stuck with dress shoes as long as he stayed. Which was something he didn’t know about- how long he’d be at Wayne Manor. He didn’t predict being there longer than a few hours- hopefully. 

Clark walked out of the room, shutting the door louder than he expected. He was afraid if he moved wrong he would break something in this house. But once out of the room he realized how.. Rich the entire manor seemed. 

Lots of old paintings, even the furniture looked old and priceless. Just the way it was set up too, it felt like it hadn’t been touched since the victorian era and it threw him in for a loop until he heard the sounds of punching. 

It was definitely a punching bag, he could hear the creaking from the chains that held it up, he walked towards that noise. As he got closer he recognized the heartbeat almost instantly and felt himself freeze up as listened the chains rattle. 

The bag shifted against whatever was holding it up and Clark sucked in a deep breath. He had to cool his jets, he had a normal conversation with Bruce last night. He could do it again. They were both just two sixteen year old boys- the only thing they had between them was a class difference the size of the Grand Canyon.

Summoning all of his mental strength he walked into the very open room. It was lined with a set of weights and a balance beam on opposite sides and in the middle hung the boxing bag, just in front of it was Bruce. 

He was breathing heavily, skin glistening with sweat as he took off the gloves he wore. So far he wasn’t acknowledging Clark, and that was fine. He liked taking initiative of where the conversation could go. 

“I didn't think you worked out?” He found himself asking, as if that was what truly mattered. 

Bruce looked over at him, combing his fingers through his damp hair. They locked eyes for a second before Bruce looked down and said, 

“Well, yeah. I’m trying to get stronger.” 

“Why?” Clark asked. 

He looked up at him, awkwardly. Bruce shrugged his shoulders and his gaze ducked back down to the floor. 

“Because it’s important to me, that’s why. Did you sleep well? Alfred has breakfast ready if you want to eat.” 

Clark tried not to sigh, he wanted more.. Depth to the reason why, he guessed. After all, Bruce nearly kicked him in the head without so much as a second’s hesitation. There was no clue as to what else he was capable of. Which was alarming considering Clark wasn’t human in the first place. 

“Yeah, I could eat.” 

“Good,” Bruce smiled slightly. “The dining room is the next room over, and across the hall.” 

“Oh, we’re not eating together?” 

Bruce made a face, gesturing to himself, “I’m not decent to eat.” 

Clark shrugged his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Why don’t you just shower afterwards? It’s just sweat, and I don’t mind it. I’m from a farm after all,” he tried to play his country-farm kid card on Bruce. Truthfully, he just didn’t like eating alone and he wanted to ask the billionaire so much more now that he was more awake. “Maybe for you that’ll be an adventure.” 

He scoffed at the comment, “Fine, if it makes you that happy, Clark.” Bruce picked up a towel from under the weight shelf and patted his face and hair dry, carrying it around his neck as he led the way into the dining room. 

The first thing Clark noticed was the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, then how long the table was. It could easily seat twelve and he found it sad that there were only two plates set. It was clearly a table meant for guests. How long had it been since Wayne Manor was actually full of people? 

Clark didn’t ask as he sat down. Bruce sat across from him, folding a napkin over his lap as he glanced over at Clark once again. 

“Your school came to Gotham because so much happens here, right?” He asked. 

He nodded in response, quietly cutting into his plate of waffles while looking at the raven-haired teen. His blue eyes were so focused, on nothing but Clark. He felt like he was being judged thoroughly but also felt a sense of strength in being looked at like that.

“Yeah, Gotham is a hotspot for crime, fashion, cuisine, even medical practices. Compared to Smallville it’s like its own country. That’s just the truth, I’ve spent my time here so far just exploring. I met Barbara Kean, and you seem to know her pretty well,” Bruce made a face at his comment but Clark continued, “I also met a man who owns his own restaurant and is proud of the school but thinks it’ll become a target for criminals to hit. Why is that?”

“I get the feeling you’re asking me that so you can put whatever I say into your article. Am I right?” 

“You are,” Clark grinned over at him, starting to eat for the first time that day. 

Bruce tapped his fingers on the table for a second, “I don’t think any school in Gotham is truly safe from all harm. The goal for the school that Wayne Enterprises made is actually to give education to the homeless youth of Gotham. A safe, unbiased education. To help not only inspire kids, but to help them get jobs in the future, go to college. To see what the world has in store for them beyond the walls of this city.” 

He grew silent after that and Clark didn’t say anything, instead he just looked at him. He watched Bruce push some of his food around his plate a little uncomfortably. 

“I also think that it can help improve Gotham’s future. Does that work for you?” 

 

Clark nodded slightly, “It works absolutely marvelously. You’re such an inspiration Mr. Wayne.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes and finally started eating, shifting in his seat for a second before getting quiet. Clark took it upon himself to talk. 

“I haven’t been in Gotham very long so I’m not in a place to know these things. But I genuinely think the school was a good idea, I’ve only seen one since I’ve been here and it was on the way into Gotham. So a new school is definitely beneficial. Plus it creates jobs for teachers.” He waved his fork in the air as he talked, “I can’t wait to see what becomes of the school to be honest. What you did was good, especially for Gotham.” 

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from someone who isn’t from here.” Bruce scooted his chair back, “I’m gonna take a shower now, Alfred’s still in the kitchen if there’s anything else you want. I’ll be back down in a few minutes.” 

“Got it,” he smiled at Bruce and Bruce gave a soft smile back in return before walking out of the dining room entirely. He was gone just as quickly as Clark had originally showed up. 

He finished his food and picked up both of their plates, and walked into what he guessed was the kitchen. Clark walked in as quietly as he could. 

“Did you enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Kent?” 

“Please, I’m just Clark. And I did, it was really good. Doesn’t top my mom’s cooking though.” He shrugged his shoulders and scraped the rememenants of the food into the trash can. Alfred was looking at him like he was crazy, “What?” 

“I can handle the dishes on my own, lad.” Alfred sounded confused

Again, Clark shrugged, “I like doing housework, it eases my stress. There’s just nothing going on for me right now, might as well just.. Do dishes. If that’s okay?” 

“Well, I’m not going to complain if you absolutely want to do it. I’m not stopping you.” He shook his head, amused and started to wipe down the counter as Clark ran the dishes under the sink. The water came out fast and steady and in no time, after a little soap, all of the dishes were left sparkling. 

He could feel Alfred’s eyes on him, and he forced out a laugh, “I get the feeling no one has washed dishes for you before?” 

“Not in a very long time, it’s a bit touching if I’m being honest.” His voice was smooth, oddly quiet. Everything about it felt weirdly domestic. Like he’d done this before. It felt normal. 

“What’s touching?” Bruce had walked back into the kitchen and Clark nearly jumped out of his skin, turning around quickly. 

Bruce was leaning against the counter in a navy turtleneck and black slacks. No longer in workout clothes he actually looked well, like Bruce Wayne. Which felt weird to say. Their conversation earlier felt friendly but now that he was actually dressed Clark was yet again, brutally reminded of their differences. 

It didn’t help that the sweater happened to look really good on him too, his hair was still wet but slicked back. He looked oddly refreshed, less bitter like he had when he was working out. 

“Nothing, Master Bruce. Mr. Kent just washed the dishes is all,”

“Oh,” his eyebrows went up in surprise. “That was very kind of him, thank you.”

Clark put his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels quietly. He felt oddly.. Flattered for a few seconds. Clearing his throat as he shifted back and forth. 

“Are you alright, Clark?” 

He blinked a few times, coming back into reality. He hadn’t even realized he was zoned out until he felt Bruce’s hand brush against his forehead. The smaller’s brows were knitted together, and he looked beyond confused. 

He didn’t know how to reply, instead he reached up and touched Bruce’s hand. Slowly, he pulled it away from his face. 

“I’m fine,” Clark really was fine. 

“You’re warm, are you-” Bruce began, but Clark cut him off, smile and all. 

“Really! I’m fine, I run warm most of the time. It’s a uh..” He pointed towards his eyes and Bruce just nodded, taking a step back. He instantly missed his close presence. It was oddly comforting to be that close to him. Like everything would be fine. 

Bruce just had that aura about him, like he was wise beyond his years. Which made sense, Clark supposed most rich people had to be in their youth so that they wouldn’t make mistakes in their future. 

“Alright. If you say so.” 

 

“I’m saying so.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “Sass, that’s new.” 

Clark stuck his tongue out and Alfred actually laughed a little. 

“I swear you boys act like you’ve known each other since forever. Clear out of the kitchen, go do something. Why don’t you show Mr. Kent around the garden-” 

“Actually, Mr. Penny- Alfred. Sorry,” Clark smiled sheepishly at the older gentlemen, “I was wondering if I could go back to the hotel and come back tomorrow. I just need to get to writing, y’know? Before I forget the things Bruce told me, I forgot my recorder somewhere..”

“Of course, let me get the car started and we can head out. You coming Master B?” 

Bruce shook his head, “I need to finish some work,” he then turned to Clark, a gentle look on his face. “Thank you for your time, I can’t wait to have you over tomorrow again. We can check out the garden or.. Go exploring if you’d like. There’s a lot of woods behind the manor.”

 

Clark flashed a smile, “That sounds like a lot of fun, actually. I’ll see you!” Without thinking he pulled the other into a hug, warm and inviting. At first Bruce just tensed up and slowly hugged Clark back, patting him on the shoulders. 

“Now go one before Alfred yells again,” Bruce laughed and Clark just smiled. He couldn’t help it. 

“Fine, bye,” He turned away and followed out where the butler had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this taking so long, i burnt myself out with the last chapter on accident and the holidays happened.
> 
> this chapter is just a transition chapter for what's coming in the next chapter!! Sorry if its boring, i really tried my best aahh
> 
> also comments fuel the writing goblin in my brain sos.


	6. Alien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clark reveals part of his life to Bruce

When Clark got back to the hotel he only did two things, one was writing down everything he could remember. Just the quotes, especially the ones from Bruce. He knelt down at the desk and wrote until his hand started cramping. He even included the little details about that night. Especially Bruce’s speech, and how everyone dressed. Culture was a huge part of this piece even if he didn’t want it to be the main point.    
  
After that all he really remembered was using a shopping bag to grab some more clothes, and his sneakers. He also gave the camera back to Mr. Jones. Who aggressively clapped him over the shoulders with pride melting into his eyes.   
  
“You’ve done so well, Clark. I really am proud of you,” he had said with a bright smile on that characteristically cherubic face.   
  
All Clark could do was smile awkwardly, because he didn’t think he did much. Sure, he was going to be hanging out with Bruce Wayne. But that was just for the article! It was good to really get to know the person you were writing about. Right?   
  
At least, that’s what he told himself when he ran all the way to Wayne Manor the next day , having memorized the route on the way back to the hotel just the other day. He felt ridiculous, memorizing so much in just a few days when he could hardly remember the quadratic formula when he was in school.    
  
He bounded up the long driveway quietly, shifting the plastic bag into his other hand as he walked up to the doors. For a second he wondered if he needed to knock, he did say that he was going to be back. At least he thought he did, he could always be wrong, knowing his luck he probably didn’t. Either way he used the knocker, pounding it against the door three times.    
  
For a second everything was quiet then the door swung open and Alfred’s kind face greeted him, “Welcome back, Clark. Master Bruce is just finishing up a few things and he’ll be ready to greet you properly.” The butler stepped to the side to let Clark in.   
  
The manor had a certain smell about it, Clark realized as he walked in. Like spearmint and aged wood. It mingled in the air like an omen. Whereas it certainly smelt nice it was almost intimidating.    
  
“Where should I wait for him at?” He asked, as Alfred took the bag from his hands.    
  
“Just go into the study and he’ll finish up quicker.” The older man replied, waving his hands. “Quite literally just down the hall, big black door. You won’t miss it.”   
  
Clark sighed slightly, nodding. “Of course, thank you Alfred.” He started walking down the hallway, adjusting his jacket. The weather was unfortunately, starting to get chillier with every passing day. The season changing from fall to winter as aggressively as it possibly could.   
  
The door to the study was wide open and he took it as an invitation to walk inside. It was significantly warmer there than in the rest of the massive house, and there sat Bruce. He was perched on the couch, a mug that was almost too big for his hands curled around his fingers and a folder opened in his other hand.    
  
He didn’t stop reading, or even acknowledge Clark for the most part. Bruce was absorbed in whatever he was reading, casually sipping from the coffee in the mug every few seconds or so. The smell of it drafted all the way over to where Clark stood. Not that he really minded.    
  
That was until Bruce happened to glance up then jolted slightly, setting the cup down and flipping the folder shut.    
  
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here already.” He started picking up all of his stuff, stacking the folder into a box and setting said box on the table. Tidying up the space he had occupied.    
  
“Hey, it’s fine! I never did give a time on when I was coming back,” he laughed gently, “But I thought we were going exploring, right?”   
  
Bruce nodded, “We are, let me get changed into something more.. Exploring appropriate. I’ll be right back. If you’d like you can sit down.” He gestured to the couch before walking out of the study entirely.   
  
Clark didn’t sit down, instead he just waited by the door. He honestly didn’t mind the wait all that much. He liked taking in the aura of the manor, it just felt… peaceful.    
  
Until Bruce came back down in a dark sweatshirt and.. Jeans. Normal clothes, startlingly normal clothes. He could actually.. Fit in in Smallville dressed like that. He had his arms shoved into the pockets of it.    
  
“Do you want to go down to the creek or try to go further to the waterfall?” He asked, starting to walk away from him. Clark took it as a cue to follow as they turned left down another hallway and went down a flight of stairs.    
  
“Well, could we do both?”   
  
Bruce looked down at his watch and shrugged, “Probably? They’re close to each other but they’re both pretty far out to begin with.”    
  
“I mean, I still have a little over two weeks left in Gotham.” Clark laughed a little and Bruce rolled his eyes, walking into another kitchen. It was much smaller than the one above them, more private. It also looked more homely but Bruce kept walking. He opened a glass door and stepped aside to let Clark through.    
  
“It’s not that far, luckily.”    
  
Clark grinned and walked back out into the chilly air. The door didn’t lead to the front of the house but rather what he guessed was the side of it. There were woods as far as he could see, he didn’t know where to start.    
  
“This way,” Bruce said, nodding his head to the left and walking. Clark followed him and let his mind wander as they walked into the woods. The leaves were starting to fall off, marking the forest floor in a flurry of yellows and oranges. It was really beautiful, and scenic. He felt like he could walk forever and not have a care in the world.    
  
He looked over at Bruce quietly, noticing the way his eyes flickered around at the woods. Observing something and thinking. The blue of his eyes were bright against the noon sun and the red he wore, he blinked a few times then went back to looking forward.    
  
“When we met you told- me that you were born with powers. Heat vision, super strength, and super speed. Why is that?”    
  
“Why is what?” Clark felt his throat go dry at the sudden question, but he didn’t stop walking. Neither did Bruce. In fact, Bruce wasn’t looking at him at all.  He just stared at the ground and sighed, kicking a leaf.    
  
“Do you know why you were born with those abilities?”    
  
“Of course I do.” He looked at the ground. Clark knew where this conversation was going, the real question was.. Could he trust Bruce to not tell anyone about it. Clark didn’t.. Want people from Gotham to know what he was.    
  
Clark didn’t speak for awhile, he buried his hands into his pockets and thought long and hard. The only noise he heard was the occasional bird and Bruce’s thundering heartbeat. The other boy was calm, not alarmed. Patient- just absolutely patient.    
  
He ran his fingers through his hair and dragged them down his face,    
  
“Bruce, can I trust you to not tell anyone about this? And I literally mean anyone, you can’t tell Alfred, Selina, or Miss Kean. Okay?”    
  
“My lips are sealed.” Bruce replied, looking up at Clark cooly. “I didn’t plan on telling anyone anyways. If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to tell me.”   
  
Clark’s chest tightened at that, and he couldn’t help but laugh.    
  
“I-I don’t have any problems telling you. It’s just a kind of long story.”   
  


“Well I have a little over two weeks to listen,” Bruce grinned and knocked his shoulder into Clark’s. All he thought about was how Alfred said they acted like they’d known each other forever. Clark really felt like that, except Bruce was a complete stranger to him. He didn’t know anything about him. Not who he was as a person, only what he could tell from the outside.    
  
“Alright then, I’ll tell you everything I know.”   
***

By the time Clark had finished telling Bruce everything they had made it to the creek and were sitting next to each other. The sun was just starting to fall in the sky, soon to set but not quite there yet.   
  
Clark didn’t know much about himself to begin with, mainly that he was from a different planet entirely. A planet involved in war and his parents sent him to Earth to protect him. Then his Earth parents took him in and raised him on that farm and he developed his powers at a young age. He wished he knew more about that part of him, he yearned for more knowledge but didn’t even know where to start with figuring any of it out.   
  
“I- that’s all I know about.. All of that, and my powers. I’m also supposed to be able to fly but I haven’t figured out how to do that yet. Which is fine, believe me. I’m glad that most of my powers are.. Hideable,” he took a deep breath in, he refused to look at Bruce the entire time, instead he gazed at the rippling water as a leaf fell into the creek. He chewed on his lip, he could feel the tears threatening to fall. It was frustrating, so frustrating that he knew he was alien but couldn’t learn anything about it. All because his planet exploded, his parents sent him away to protect him. It was such a weight he tried to ignore so badly most of the time.     
  
Bruce put his hand on his leg quietly, Clark couldn’t help but tense up under his hand.    
  
“It’s okay, Clark. What happened to your planet.. It sounds like it was a holocaust. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”    
  
He rubbed his eyes and finally looked at Bruce, smiling, “No, its fine. I’m glad that you asked its.. You’re the first person that I’ve ever told about this. Deep down- what it's like to not be human and that being the end of it. I feel… I feel- god..”   
  
“Relieved to have it off your chest?” Bruce finished his sentence for him and Clark could only laugh, nodding.    
  
“Exactly! Just.. wow.” He breathed out a sigh.    
  
“So you’re completely alien yet you act more human than anyone I’ve met before? That’s weird in itself if you’re asking me.”    
  
“What?” Clark asked, giving Bruce a side eye.    
  
The billionaire just leaned back on his hands, looking at the sky as he talked. With a gentle shrug of his shoulders he began,    
  
“I was raised in Gotham, sheltered at first but I now know what the city is like. What humans are capable of, and here you come in. You’re an actual alien but you act more human than anyone I’ve met. It’s weird how that works, isn’t it? I think you truly belong here, Clark.”     
  
He felt his face flush slightly, “Was that a compliment?”   
  
“..Yeah,” Bruce smiled a little, turning to look over at Clark. “I think it’s the truth though.”    
  
“I’m considering it both.” Bruce snorted out a laugh at his comment, shaking his head.    
  
They both got quiet for a little while, just watching the water run through the creek. It was peaceful.    
  
Clark felt at peace, he closed his eyes for a while and laid back in the grass, sighing through his nose. The air was crisp and it was starting to get colder.    
  
He heard Bruce lay down next to him, listened to his heart jump slightly in his chest. It was a relaxing sound. He felt like he could fall asleep right there. Clark just felt that peaceful with himself right there in those woods.     
  
Everything was quiet for a long time, then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he opened his eyes. Bruce was leaning over him, carefully.    
  
“We should head back now, it’s going to get dark soon.”    
  
Clark reached for Bruce’s hand quietly, holding it in his own just for a few seconds as he sat up. Bruce of course was right, the sun was setting.    
  
The sky was painted in a gorgeous myriad of oranges and pinks. It looked like something out of a painting. He wished he would’ve brought a camera, even just a disposable one just so he could capture the sight of it.     
  
“Can you see the stars out here?” He asked quietly, looking at Bruce again. Marveling in how the golden light painted his skin, and made his eyes light up as he looked over at Clark.    
  
“Only during winter time, and further out than this.” He answered, he didn’t pull his hand away from Clark’s. Clark didn’t let go either.    
  
“Bruce?”    
  
“Yes?” Bruce wasn’t looking at him anymore, he looked up at the sky quietly, fingers shifting slightly but he wasn’t letting go. If Clark wasn’t mistaken he was almost leaning into the grip.    
  
“Can we look at the stars sometime? Not tonight but sometime can we just go as far as we can go, and watch the stars?”    
  
The smaller looked puzzled, then he smiled. As if in understanding, he just slowly nodded. “Of course we can watch the stars. But there’s one thing you need to do before then. Okay?”    
  
“What do I need to do, Bruce- I just want to watch the stars and-”    
  
It felt like it happened in slow motion, just as it had when someone had shot at Bruce and Selina. Except no one was in danger. Bruce just turned to Clark and smiled, actually smiled. It reached all the way up to his eyes and Clark could feel his heart racing.    
  
He loved his smile, god what was he thinking? What was he doing out here?    
  
“Fly.” And Bruce jumped, jumped off the small ledge that they had been perched against. He looked like an angel mid flight. Hovering in the air for just a few seconds before gravity fully gripped him down.    
  
And Clark ran, jumped off only seconds after Bruce did. It wasn’t a far drop, it was hardly dangerous. He lunged and gripped the smaller’s wrist before they both fell into the icy water.    
  
Clark did not fly at all, the water didn’t affect him much. He pulled Bruce up when he did though, nearly the second they both fell in. Worry coursed through Clark’s mind.    
  
What on this Earth would make Bruce do something like that?   
  
But when Bruce came up out of the water he tossed his hair back and laughed, it was dry and free. Full of life with every breath he took, his shoulders shook and the water droplets fell from his face.    
  
He couldn’t help it, Clark started laughing too. Harder than he’d laughed in what felt like forever, looking at the water he turned and splashed Bruce with it, and Bruce splashed back. What had been just two small splashes erupted into an all out water war that left Clark’s throat horribly sore. They both laughed, and when they finally regained their senses they were both soaking wet and the sun had long since set beyond the horizon.    
  
“W-We’re just two guys in a creek,” Bruce wiped his face, still smiling as he caught his breath.    
  
Clark nodded, “Seems so. We- we should head back now. Yeah?”    
  
“Definitely, Alfred is going to scream when he sees us. I just want you to know that, okay?”     
  
“I can picture it,” Clark grabbed Bruce’s hand again, pulling him out of the creek. Both of them walked up to the ledge they had basically dove from and started to climb.    
  
Once they were back up they walked the way that they had come. Bruce didn’t pull his hand away from Clark’s and they were both utterly silent. It was comforting, it was like the calm after a huge storm from the adrenaline rush that had spiked his heart just an hour or so ago. It was incredible.    
  
By the time the manor lights came into view Bruce was nearly touching his shoulder to Clark’s, shivering so hard that Clark could hear his teeth clattering.    
  
“Are you regretting jumping into the creek?”    
  
“Not on your life,” Bruce laughed a little, then got really quiet. “It made me feel like I was alive, I feel like everyone needs an adrenaline rush every now and again. Don’t you agree?”    
  
“Are you asking how I felt about the creek?” Clark looked down at him and Bruce had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. It made him want to shove him.   
  
So he did, and Bruce staggered to the side and snorted, shoving Clark back slightly. He didn’t put strength into it though.    
  
“Answer the question, Clark.”    
  
“Fineee,” Clark whined a little, then got a sudden idea. “When we get back in,” and he grabbed Bruce, holding him close to his chest. He hooked his elbow under the teen’s knees and running as fast as he could into the manor. The exact way that they had come in.    
  
Bruce’s eyes were wide and he looked around like a deer in the headlights when Clark set him down on the ground. “That was hardly seconds!!!”   
  
“I told you I was fast,”    
  
“That’s! Crazy fast, why did you even take a bus here if you could do that? Wow.” He looked amazed now, running his hand through his hair with wonder, scoffing. “That was incredible!”    
  
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it~” Clark cooed at him, “And I think you were right. The creek has given me energy that I needed. I feel rejuvenated but.. Did you really expect me to fly?”    
  
Bruce just snorted, “To be honest.. I don’t know, it just felt right to say.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. Both of them were still wet but now that they were in the light Clark could see a flush at the billionaire’s cheeks, and red lines under his eyes. Too cold- maybe. But he acted like he was fine.    
  
At least he did until Alfred ran into the small kitchen they had just gotten into.    
  
“Are you two boys crazy!?” He yelled, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours, and you’re soaking wet- Why are you soaking wet!?”    
  
“We took a swim in the creek-”

  
“Not in this bloody weather you didn’t- oh you’re serious.” The butler pinched the space between his brows and heaved a great sigh.    
  
Clark looked at him, right into his eyes.   
  
“It was a lot of fun though, I would do it again.”   
  
The older gentlemen waved him off, “Both of you, showers, hot showers, and get into pajamas and I’ll put dinner on the table.” He paused for a second, “Well both of you! Before you get a cold or frostbite!”    
  
Bruce grinned and ran off, Clark followed after him. Running back up the stairs, he had forgotten that the guest room he was using also had a bathroom but now that he knew he swore he was going to take the longest shower of his entire life.    
  
Everything made him feel so much more alive.    
  
He couldn’t believe that he had jumped in a creek this close to winter, his mother would kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> make sure to leave comments so the writing goblin in my brain gets a push to write more.  
> also predictions for what might happen next ohoho (because I haven't planned that far ahead rip)


	7. Dreams and Drugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the drugged bruce tag was a prelude ;)

A clatter roused Clark from his slumber. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, the sun wasn’t out yet and the sky was still a dark color of purple. Not quite morning but too ‘late to call it night’. Everything was oddly quiet for a few more moments and he debated just rolling over and going back to sleep.    
  
He looked over at the alarm clock, peering at the bright red numbers. It was only 3 in the morning. Clark sighed and smoothed his hands over his hair. He was tired of waking up so early, but at least this time there was a possible  _ reason _ for him to be awake.    
  
Tossing his legs over the bed, he got up and blindly made his way over to the door. Realistically he was just guessing that whatever clattered had merely been some accident. Maybe he or Bruce hit something on the way in last night and it happened to lose balance at this hour.   
  
Clark opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, which was even darker than his room was. He felt fear crawl into his throat and chest. The manor was just way too big and even though his sight was adjusting it was still creepy.   
  
Once he could see well enough he started walking to where he heard the clatter in the first place and was shocked to find Bruce standing in the hallway.   
  
Bruce’s head was down, and his heart was beating softer than it normally was. More relaxed than usual, Clark approached him quietly. Why was he just standing there? He wasn’t moving, didn’t acknowledge Clark’s presence like normal.

 

“Bruce?” Clark tried to keep his voice quiet and hushed since it was so early in the morning. He tried waving his hand in front of Bruce’s eyes and got no response. That was when he realized it, and Clark had to force a snort back into his throat.    
  
There was no way this was happening. Clark would’ve never guessed it at all if he was honest. But it was the truth, the cold hard, utterly hilarious truth. Bruce was definitely sleep walking, and when Clark looked around it was probably an accidental bump into the wall that caused the clatter.     
  
He looked at the ground to see if anything dropped and lo and behold he found it. Clark gave Bruce a brief glance before bending over and picking up the wall decoration. It was a metallic plate with an engraving of some sort of building on it. Clark wasn’t sure what it was if he was honest. He did hang it back up though.    
  
Clark turned back around to Bruce, who was turned a different direction. He looked like he was looking around a little, but his eyes were still closed. It was actually- cute? Clark smiled at him.    
  
“Feeling alright?” it was an open-air question. He didn’t expect an answer but at full volume Bruce said,    
  
“If your shoes don’t match your belt it’s not correct nor appropriate for diving.”   
  
He really had to stop himself from laughing, he walked closer to him and gently took his arm. Bruce was incredible warm, and Clark couldn’t tell if that was because of sleep or if he had a fever.   
  
Both were plausible explanations for it, but he wasn’t sure. He started leading Bruce towards the only open door down the hallway.    
  
“I know, it’s incredible that people forget that rule,” Clark responded, and Bruce made a thoughtful humming noise shortly after.    
  
  
“Or grocery shopping, you can’t shop for food without a salad fork. It’s always the salad fork, or when people forget to order wine with a multiple course meal. Tragic.”    
  
“Very tragic, anything else?”  He really  _ really _ had to use all of his well to keep from laughing. It was a mix-up of table manners and basic errands but somehow was utterly hilarious.    
  
Bruce’s head bumped against Clark’s shoulder and Clark reached up and gently ran his fingers through Bruce’s thick hair.   
  
The teenager relaxed a little more into Clark’s hands and body, like a touch starved cat who just got proper attention for the first time in its life.    
  
Not that Clark had experience with that, it just made sense in his 3 am daze, and feeling Bruce’s warmth against his side. It was comforting, really comforting.    
  
“Zebra print is disgustingly ugly and the fact that there’s colored versions of it is a disaster in itself. Animal print should’ve never been high fashion.”    
  
“Agreed, we can talk about it later, Bruce. For now let’s go back to sleep. It’s way too early.” Clark kept leading Bruce into his bedroom and found an odd comfort in the way that it smelt. It was different from the rest of the house. The scent of caramel wafted about along with a light cologne that Clark couldn’t name. It smelt like someone  _ lived _ in that room.    
  
He wanted to smack himself for having that thought, of course someone lived there. Bruce, obviously did. Clark made careful work in getting Bruce back into bed, noticing the array of pillows the other boy slept with and the three blankets. One was weighted, one was a comforter, and the last one was a throw.    
  
It was utterly ridiculous but who was Clark to really judge?    
  
Bruce curled up a little, and Clark lingered a little longer in the room. Even when Bruce’s heart rate lowered a little more into a steady rhythm he watched him.   
  
He didn’t know how long he stood there until he smiled and left the room, clicking the door shut behind him and walking back into his room.    
  
Not much time had passed, the alarm clock read 4 am and Clark found himself laying back down with a new ease lifting in his chest. It was easy to fall back asleep and just dream.   
  
***   
_ Clark was walking down a coastline, the ocean was roaring with life and he could hear people laughing and the seagulls aggressively cawing for food. He’d only seen a beach once in person, and this wasn’t the one he saw.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The sand was a beautiful white color, and the water was so blue it reminded Clark of Bruce’s eyes. It was a sight to behold and he found himself just looking out at the water and admiring its color. Everything felt loose and free, like he was breathing for the first time.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He closed his eyes and inhaled the salty smell of the water, felt the wind against his face and hair. Then he felt a warm presence on his shoulder, he fluttered his eyes open and looked down at Bruce. His smile widened and he laced their fingers together and watched the ocean together.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Bruce opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, and he looked up at Clark with this soft expression on his face. He tilted his head, and kept talking. Clark still couldn’t hear him but something in his mind said it was okay.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Especially when Bruce brushed his fingers against his cheek affectionately, Clark smiled down at him and found himself getting closer. He could feel Bruce’s warmth and just as he was about to kiss him they were at the top of a building.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Clark looked around, startled. Bruce backed away from him, speaking words that he couldn’t hear before smiling brightly. It reached all the way to his eyes and Clark’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. Then Bruce walked backward and just let himself fall off the edge.  _ _   
_ _   
_ __ He couldn’t run there in time to grab him, everything was crashing around him as Bruce fell. Further and further down-

_ *** _

 

“NO!” Clark screamed awake, jumping out of bed entirely. His heart was racing in his chest and he had to get up and pace around for a while. Try and calm himself down. Why did he have that dream? He could ask himself a million questions.

Everything felt so weird, one minute he was about to kiss Bruce, he felt that heat- love? Maybe, he wasn’t even sure. Then Bruce just jumped off a building? He’d had worse nightmares, but his nightmares made more sense than this dream did.    
  
He rubbed his temples for a few seconds and decided to get changed into day clothes, try and act as normal as he wanted to feel at that moment. After brushing his teeth he felt a little better but not quite there yet. He desperately wanted to take a walk. Do anything!  He just couldn’t stew in his feelings.    
  
In his dream, he had tried to kiss Bruce and Bruce.. Maybe tried to kiss him back? He wasn’t sure. Everything felt so weird and strange. He didn’t like it, at all.    
  
He decided to leave his room and walk downstairs. He didn’t check the time but he didn’t think it could be too late in the day. Clark couldn’t hear anything odd, no chains creaking from a punching bag, nothing really. Except for a smooth heartbeat, Alfred’s.    
  
Clark kept walking until he made it into the kitchen. To the smell of it he was cooking something or another but he was too anxious to guess what. 

  
“Good morning, Clark.” Alfred didn’t even turn around as he talked to him, “Did you sleep alright?” 

  
“Er- not really. Where’s Bruce?”    
  
Alfred shrugged a little, “Said he had business with some  _ colleagues  _ of his. Chasing a lead of his I think, he kept it rather vague from me I’m afraid.”    
  
Clark nodded a little, “Oh.. yeah,” he thought quietly about last night and decided to ask Alfred about it. “Can I ask a question?”    
  
He walked over so he was standing next to the man, just looking up at him. Alfred nodded down and looked at him with a smile on his wrinkled face.    
  
“Of course, go ahead.”    
  
Clark rocked back on his heels, “Has Bruce ever sleepwalked?” Alfred made a face and Clark decided to continue, “I-I only ask because he was last night. We had a conversation about clothes and not ordering wine during multiple coursed dinners.”    
  
Alfred snorted and laughed, flipping what Clark now realized was an egg in the pan.    
  
“No, I haven’t known him to sleepwalk before. Perhaps it was that jump in the creek that jump-started his brain in his sleep. I wouldn’t think too hard on it though, Master Bruce does all sorts of odd things.”    
  
“Like jumping into creeks?”    
  
“Precisely,” Alfred nodded a little and got quiet again as he plated the egg and started on making another one.    
  
Clark clicked his tongue a little and hugged himself, “Was he always like that? Doing odd things like jumping into creeks and getting involved in the streets? Barbara Kean told me no one really knew him until recently.”    
  
Alfred heaved a great sigh, “You definitely are a journalism student. But no, Bruce wasn’t always so.. Adventurous. Not until after his parents were murdered, I’m afraid. It completely changed him. I’m just doing my best to raise him into the man his parents wanted him to be.”    
  
“So you let him just.. Get involved in street crime?”    
  
“You’d be amazed at the skills that it builds for him, he’s never been as social as he is right now. Even if there is danger, he quite enjoys it. Likes to play detective sometimes.”    
  
“Is that why he’s trying to find Strange?”    
  
Alfred’s eyes narrowed and Clark suddenly realized he overstepped,    
  
“I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have.. Pressed. I apologize.” He bowed his head a little, and away from the butler.    
  
“Clark, I’m glad that you’re interested in Master Bruce’s well being. You’re a very good young man. It’s why I’ve let you stay here so long. You’re a very good influence to him, a lot better than what he’s got right now.”    
  
“Should I consider that a compliment?”    
  
Alfred laughed a little, shaking his head, “I would think so, yes. I will also say that he hasn’t looked quite alive in a nonterrified way than how he looked when you two came back last night. However, if he tries that again I’ll dig him a new one about health and safety.”    
  
He handed Clark a plate with an egg on it and a fork. Clark gratefully took it and smiled a little.    
  
“It was funny, when he did it. Bruce just got up, turned and looked at me and said:  _ Fly _ . He was smiling, like actually smiling and when he jumped he looked like an angel mid-flight before.. He fell. It was weird, we were silent one moment then boom. I want to ask him about it but..” 

 

“You’re worried he won’t give you a truthful answer,” Alfred said and Clark nodded in response, taking a bite of the egg as he listened to the wise gentleman. “I can give you one, he gets whims and impulses and struggles to repress them as well as he wants to repress them. He jumped because you made him feel free, and his emotions manifested.”    
  
“Poetic,” Clark hummed a little around the egg.    
  
“Now if you tell Master B that I told you all this I’ll have to kick you out. But I like keeping you around, a good influence is just what he needs right now.”   
  
Clark snorted slightly, “Yeah.. I know. I just hope that I’m doing the right thing here. I mean I’m just writing an article. I’m not exactly close to you guys and all.”    
  
“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy your company every now and again,” Alfred winked and finished up the cooking. “You are quite antsy, shall I tell you to go run off on your own for a few hours to get that energy out of your system?”    
  
“Yeah, I’ll- do you want me to come back?” Clark asked.    
  
“Only if you want to, Clark.” Alfred waved a little, “Now off you go, can’t keep all that energy in this house.”    
  
Clark laughed and set his plate in the sink, running off at a normal speed until he exited the manor. Then he broke into a full sprint, super speed and all.    
  
He didn’t know where exactly he wanted to go, he just wanted to run forever and ever. The weather was actually colder than it was yesterday and the sky was stained gray. Clark could run back to the city, he could visit  _ The Sirens _ maybe even go to the GCPD just to see what it was like and bring back a story or two just to tell his parents.    
  
The city felt like his for the taking, and once he entered the heart of it he started walking again. Down empty streets, eyeing the people graciously and looking at the buildings in awe. A lot of apartments were vacant. Which sort of made sense, since Gotham was such a crime hot spot.    
  
What he really wanted to do though, was find Bruce. He knew he shouldn’t meddle but he had a bad feeling about the fact that Bruce didn’t even get specific with Alfred about where he was. Clark closed his eyes and tried to think of Bruce’s thunderstorm of a heartbeat. He tilted his head up towards the sky and took a deep breath in. Picturing the other next to him. 

 

He thought of the way Bruce had held his hand, the way he touched his face in his dream and suddenly out of the thousands of heartbeats in Gotham he picked out Bruce’s. It was farther away, and.. Sounded like it was getting fainter, less rhythmic- then it got faster.   
  
Something was off, very very off and Clark could literally feel it. He started running, running to Bruce at the call of his heartbeat. If there was anything Clark wanted to do it was just to make sure Bruce didn’t somehow get killed doing whatever he did.   
  
He’d only been in Gotham a week and already he was starting to finally get truly wary of the city. Especially when he found himself in a darker part of the city. The buildings were practically crumbling and a fog filled the sidewalks. A sort of factory district that Clark hadn’t thought of before. He could smell the air, which was never a good time.    
  
Still, he tried not to lose the thrum of Bruce’s heart. Even when he jumped down a flight of stairs and started to slow down in an alley. It was dark and the gray brick was weathered and covered in graffiti from god knew how far back. All he could think about was Bruce.   
  
And he hated that that was what he was worried about, his chest tightened a little when the other’s heartbeat got closer and closer. Everything told him to run but he tried to keep calm as he approached Bruce. He knew he was close, even if he couldn’t see him.

  
Clark hung a left and found him, curled up on the pavement with a bloody lip. That seemed it for outside injuries, and when he switched over to x-ray vision he only noticed minor bruising to the bones. As if he’d fallen from something, Clark didn’t know the details.   
  
He knelt in front of him, taking his face in his hands.    
  
“Bruce, Bruce- hey,” he tried to sound gentle, running his thumbs over Bruce’s cheekbones. He looked unconscious, eyes closed. His breath was coming out in shallow little puffs. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. “Bruce!”    
  
Bruce stirred a little, eyes opening slightly, slowly meeting Clark’s worried gaze. His pupils were horribly dilated, he took another breath.    
  
“Clark?”    
  
Clark wanted to scream, he was so relieved. Bruce wasn’t dead, all he could do was smile and look down at him.    
  
“Yeah, it’s me. I- can I take you back home now? You’re bleeding and..” he took another look at him. “Drugged, what happened?”    
  
Bruce grunted a little, “Not here,” he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. Bruce was curling in on himself, breath getting shakier. “You can take me back, I-”    
  
Clark looked him over as he reached down and scooped him  into his arms. He cradled him close to his chest, listening to his pulse. It was flaring in and out, fluttering offbeat for a few seconds then pounding hard. Definitely drugged, but Clark didn’t know with what. Judging by how worse for wear Bruce was, it was bad and starting to get worse. Dread filled his stomach like a pit.    
  
“Hospital, I think you should go to a hospital-”    
  
“Gotham General,” Bruce wheezed a little, tucking his face into Clark’s chest and breathing hard. That was all he needed, really.    
  
Clark sped off into Gotham, easily dodging other people as he made his way to the hospital. He clutched Bruce tightly against him as he entered the rather large building. Finally slowing himself to a normal run he bounded up to the counter. What was he going to say? Hell what if Bruce owned this hospital- he probably did. Maybe he frequented, god Clark didn’t know!   
  
He took a breath, trying to keep his voice as clear as possible.    
  
“My friend, he- Bruce Wayne, was drugged and-” The clerk behind the counter gasped when he said Bruce Wayne and suddenly there were doctors everywhere. A nurse pulled Bruce from his arms and told him to stay in the waiting room. They thanked him for taking Bruce there, for caring so much.    
  
Clark sat down in a squeaky chair and put his head in his hands, this was only his first week in Gotham. He attended a Charity Gala, got involved in a shooting, met the owner of the club, spent a few nights with Bruce Wayne.    
  
And now Bruce Wayne was drugged and there was nothing Clark could do about it.


	8. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt himself relax, chin resting on Bruce’s head as he closed his eyes. He wished this could last forever, the comforting silence. Holding Bruce in his arms like something could become of it. Like Bruce loved him back.

If only he had gotten there faster, minutes, seconds sooner! He could’ve prevented what happened. He clenched his fists and jaw, closing his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. He didn’t want to get mad, even if it was just at himself.

 

Clark felt nauseous as he sat in the waiting room, a pit of guilt settling in his stomach as he watched people move in and out. They all looked like ghosts, sad eyes, frail frames, hardly even there in the wreckage of what had happened their loved ones and themselves. He could relate to that,

 

He kicked at the tile and sighed, burying himself into the collar of his coat. For some reason he wasn’t tired despite being up all night. Knowing that Bruce was hurt drove him up the wall.Mostly because he couldn’t do anything about it. Couldn’t see him, couldn’t talk to him, and couldn’t hear his heartbeat out of the cacophony of machines and other people in the hospital. 

 

Clark looked up once he felt calm again, breathing easier when he saw an orderly walking towards him. He stood up, if just to be polite while he wrung his hands together. His heart was beating so fast. What had happened to Bruce? Was he okay? Stable? Died?    
  


The orderly gave him a soft smile, “You are good to go back and see Mr. Wayne now, he’s been stabilized.”    
  
“Thank you,” Clark breathed out a sigh, shoulders dropping. He felt a weight drop off of his shoulders as he followed the orderly down the hallway and past the double doors. He could hear so many machines, so many different hearts beating at once and so close together. It felt oddly peaceful yet startling at the same time.    
  
He turned around the corner with an orderly and she turned around to face him, hardly making a noise.    
  
“Just a little heads up, he might not be completely conscious for a little while. We had to run a lot of tests, and whatever was in his system didn’t improve the situation for him.”    
  
Clark could only nod a little, whispering another thank you before she left him in front of the door. He had to muster up some kind of courage, to not look completely defeated or upset with himself. But everything kept reeling in his mind, finding Bruce on the ground, running to the hospital as fast as he could.    
  
The metal of the door handle felt too cold under his hand as he opened the door. He closed his eyes for just a second, too scared of what was waiting on the other side for a fraction of a second. He had to face it though, he felt foolish when he heard Alfred,    
  
“Well don’t just stand there looking like a ghost, Clark. Come on in.”   
  
Clark finally opened his eyes and inhaled sharply, Bruce looked-  _ alright _ certainly not like himself, but not completely dead. His face was pallid and his normally rosy lips had completely lost his hue. If Clark hadn’t known what happened, he would assume it was just some sort of fever or a cold. Not drugs.    
  
There was a problem though, and that was Bruce’s heart. What was normally as strong as thunder was coming off in soft fluttering, like a butterfly's wings against a window. Clark swallowed down the lump in his throat.    
  
“Is he going to be okay?” He finally looked at Alfred, he didn’t want to try and analyze Bruce any further. Afraid of what could be wrong, what he could see was wrong that no one else could see.    
  
The man shrugged a little, laughing a little.    
  
His eyes slid over to the hospital bed and Clark did his best to just stare at Alfred. He shrugged his shoulders and finally spoke.    
  
“That’s something they don’t know right now, they can’t identify what’s in his system. So they’ve just done about every flushing method possible to get it out of him before it can do anymore damage-”    
  
“It’s already done damage?” Clark asked, hugging himself slightly.    
  
“Mainly hallucinations, he was going on and on about something in the doorway for a little while. It got a little worse-” Alfred paused and smiled up at him. Clark realized he’d probably made a face.     
  
“Not worse like that, worse as in he could smell the color of my vest and hated it- wouldn’t shut up about it. Then he got right and cheeky with the doctor.”    
  
“Cheeky? How so?”    
  
Alfred chuckled, running his hands through his silvery hair.    
  
“The doctor asked him how he felt and he replied- and I’m quoting this,” Clark nodded a little, unable to fight the grin off his face, “ _ I don’t know, pretty bad. I suppose drugs do that to a person, but can we talk about why your coat smells like windex??? _ ”    
  
Clark put his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, snorting a little, “He didn’t.”   
  
“Oh he did. Mixed berry windex is what he whispered to me about it. Couldn’t answer many questions from the doctors because of it. Went on about birds, it got a little wild when the doctor explained the process of activated charcoal administration. Swore his eyes about came out of his head,” Alfred looked at Clark and folded his hands in his lap as calmly as ever. “Charcoal administration is where they mix activated charcoal in a tube with liquid and get the patient to swallow it. The mixture makes them throw up whatever is in their stomach, normally used in overdoses. Since they aren’t positive how he got drugged, and he was unable to answer the doctors had to do a bit of everything.”   
  
“Ah, I see. How was he when what went in had to go out again?”    
  
“He hated it, of course no one enjoys throwing up.”   
  
Clark smiled, “Did he have anything to say about it?” Alfred broke into a grin.    
  
“He said that the river Styx was leaving his body and Hades was coming with it, never know where he got that one from. That got him talking about mythology to his nurse for a while as she took his blood for testing.”    
  
“And now- why is he asleep?”   
  
Alfred’s face fell a little and he looked at Bruce again. This time Clark looked with him, only then realizing that the iv needle was in his wrist instead of his arm. That and he shifted a little on the bed, clenching his fists a few times before sighing. Maybe he was dreaming, Clark couldn’t honestly tell.    
  
“Sedative, when they were trying to stick him for fluids,” Alfred pointed at the iv pole and bag of saline, “He freaked out, couldn’t get words out of himself. I couldn’t calm him down, he kept trying to fight everyone and tried to use anything in the room to be able to do it.”    
  
“Sounds horrible.”   
  
Alfred sighed and got up, carefully pushing Bruce’s hair out of his face and tracing his fingers down his face. Careful as ever, Clark focused on his heart for a second.    
  
“Are you scared for what’s going to happen to him?” He found himself asking, Alfred finally turned and looked at him. Actually met Clark eye-to-eye for the first time since they met. He saw realization wash over the butler in the tight line that was his clenched jaw.    
  
Both of them cared about Bruce, sure- it was a different kind of caring for both of them. But, it was still caring. They had a lot in common, Clark knew that. Both of them were workers, and understood that. They were both careful people, and caring people with secrets of their own.    
  
Clark could tell that by the reserved way Alfred spoke, which seemed to carry onto how Bruce spoke as well. Which made sense. A lot of sense.   
  
But questioning  _ that _ wasn’t something Clark wanted to do. Instead he just tried to smile at Alfred. No ill will, they had similar goals. Wanted the same things. Truth be told, he looked up to Alfred. Really enjoyed their conversations, and his authority.    
  
“I’m terrified that he won’t be alright, that he’ll wake up and won’t be Bruce anymore. That he’ll wake up and see me as a stranger because of whatever is in his system. Or worse, he won’t wake up at all. All are pretty bad, don’t you think?”    
  
“I think that.. No matter what happens, I want to be there for him. It’s weird, I’ve only known him for a little while but I feel like I’ve known him forever. I-..” He felt his face flushing and he decided to look over at Bruce. Heart jumping into his throat when he noticed the blue of his eyes focused on nothing but him. Hell, had he been listening the whole time? Did he just wake up?     
  
Bruce shifted slightly, eyes fluttering open and closed over and over, then he breathed out a very shaky.    
  
“Why..?” It was long and drawn out and Clark could’ve laughed, instead he walked over to him and patted his shoulder.    
  
“Welcome back to the land of the awake, how do you feel?” Clark heard Alfred step behind him, probably observing or just interested. When he looked out of the corner of his eyes he realized Alfred was smirking, tilting his head quizziedly at the two teenagers.    
  
A warm blush crawled it’s way down Clark’s neck, he felt ridiculous. Here he was, basically a tourist from Kansas, in  _ love _ with Bruce Wayne. Who he had only known for- days. Not long at all! Maybe it’d go away, maybe he was just starstruck or impressed.    
  
Bruce clicked his fingers together, then opened his palm against the bed, sighing softly as he opened his eyes. A smile turned up on his face when he looked at Clark.    
  
“Horrible but it’s not as bad, things aren’t smelly. That has to mean something is going alright.”    
  
“Well, you sound quite awful Master Bruce. I’m going to head back to the manor to get food, is there anything I can get for you?”    
  
No, there was no way Alfred was going to leave him alone like this. Clark jerked his head to look at the butler, who stood there with a smug look on his face. Then he nodded towards Bruce, looking over at him with a soft smile.    
  
If Clark wasn’t mistaken, Alfred was definitely leaving them alone so they could talk alone. About- feelings. Or anything- he wasn’t sure. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on just Bruce, at the way his mouth hung open in a perfect  _ O _ shape as he was thinking. Probably still groggy from whatever they did to flush the drug out of his system.    
  
“Blanket?” He asked, eyes fluttering again. He was trying to focus on what was going on around him. That much was obvious to Clark at least.    
  
“Yes sir, anything else?”    
  
Bruce chewed on his lip and shrugged, “Maybe different clothes, how long do I have to stay here? I want to go home as soon as possi…” he trailed a little, then finished, “Possible.”   
  
Alfred gave a quick nod, “Understood, I’ll be back shortly. Both of you,” he pointed to Bruce, then Clark. “Behave yourselves.”    
  
“I’ll try,” Clark grinned a little as Alfred walked away, shutting the door behind him.   
  
Then he looked back at Bruce, who was just looking at him with all intent and purpose. Color was starting to return to his face. He looked more alive, which felt.. So good.    
  
“How about you?” Bruce asked.    
  
“Me? I’m.. fine, glad you’re awake now. I’ve been here all night, just hoping and praying that you’d be okay.”    
  
Bruce frowned, “Why?” he looked genuinely confused with what Clark had said to him. Like he didn’t grasp it. 

  
“Because you’re my friend, and I care about you. A lot, I want you safe and all that.” He shoved his hands into his pocket.    
  
“You’ve been up.. All night?” Bruce asked, sounding more and more confused as he talked.    
  
“Of course, it’s hard to sleep when you’re scared. Besides, I wanted to stay up anyways. So that I could immediately get news about your wellbeing. Which seems a lot better and-”    
  
“Oh, you must be tired then,” Bruce shifted a little, scooting over to the side to make room on the already small hospital bed. He patted the space he’d made a few times, then held his palm out flat again. “Come lay down.”    
  
Clark chewed on his lip, clenching his hands in his pockets, “But you need your space to heal. Y’know that right? That you have to get better?”    
  
Bruce just shrugged and kept his palm out, like an invitation. “Eh, guess my secret plan to leach warmth from you is foiled then? It’s really cold.” He addd.    
  
“Do you really want me too? Or are you trying to be nice to me?”    
  
“Both, now come lay down. I’m serious about it being cold, and I’ve noticed that you are like a walking space heater. So come on.”    
  
Clark sighed, shaking his head as he walked over. He took his shoes off before he got into the bed and sat down at first. Which didn’t seem to satisfy Bruce in the slightest. He was frowning all the way until Clark finally let himself lay down. It was uncomfortable, but also.. Nice. Being so close to someone else, being close to Bruce and knowing that Bruce was perfectly okay with it.    
  
“Nn, finally,” Bruce whined a little and scooted closer, resting his head against Clark’s shoulder. And damn was he right, he was actually really cold. Clark gently reached over and felt Bruce’s shoulder, squeezing carefully.    
  
“Happy now?” He asked, and Bruce started to laugh a little.    
  
“Yes, absolutely pleased, actually,” and he turned to his side, careful of the iv in his hand. His breathing had started to even out, and his heartbeat was getting stronger.    
  
Clark couldn’t help but to smile at him, and roll over onto his own side if just to watch him. His eyes were beautifully half lidded and his lips were back to their pink hue. It was enough to make Clark reach out, and touch Bruce’s cheek. Maybe he shouldn’t feel this way about him. Shouldn’t feel this.. This much pure love for him. Was it wrong of him? Maybe. He was just someone from Kansas and he was Bruce Wayne.    
  
He probably didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of having Bruce love him back, but he was okay with that. He could at least love Bruce in secret, and maybe his crush would go away. But for now it stayed, and for now he pulled the smaller boy closer to him. He held Bruce against his chest and tried not to gasp in surprise when the other cradled his arms around Clark’s back.    
  
Bruce pressed his face flush to Clark’s chest, “You smell good,” it was muffled, but it was enough.    
  
“What do I smell like to you?” He smiled, realizing that Bruce was starting to fall asleep again. If Clark were honest he was tired anyway. He hadn’t felt more comfortable than at that moment while holding him.    
  
“Like how red and blue smelt earlier, fresh- clean, like hope on a new day. When the sun shines high over a bright meadow and you just know the day is yours for the taking. That’s what.”    
  
“Are you still smelling colors?” He asked, and Bruce shrugged a little, already starting to go limp in Clark’s arms. Sleep steadily dragging him down.    
  
“A little bit, not as much. But it’s still there. Alfred smelt like cherries, it's the vest I swear.”   
  
Clark chuckled, nodding a little and closing his eyes. Bruce didn’t speak after that, instead just calmly breathing in and out. Steadily, it wasn’t as fluttery or as exasperated as earlier.   
  
Maybe he was getting better, the sleep was good for him. But Clark couldn’t help but wonder what was in his system exactly. So he looked, quietly using his x-ray vision. Like he should’ve done before he admitted Bruce into the hospital in the first place.. If only he’d thought of that.    
  
The only thing out of place was the needle in his hand, and Clark smiled. Whatever was there the doctors had purged from his body. A good sign, a great one, actually.    
  
He felt himself relax, chin resting on Bruce’s head as he closed his eyes. He wished this could last forever, the comforting silence. Holding Bruce in his arms like something could become of it. Like Bruce loved him back.    
  
He felt the corners of Bruce’s elbows against his ribs and sighed softly, looking at him just one more time. Drinking in his face like he would never see him again before closing his eyes and drifting off into a well needed sleep. No longer a care in the world about what could happen, about what Bruce felt. Or about what anyone but himself felt.    
  
Bruce was alive, Bruce was going to be okay, Bruce was a living, breathing being in his arms and there was nothing more that he could want. Even if he was still having side effects.   
  
Clark would stay with Bruce till the end of the line if he’d let him. If he ever could, he would. If Bruce simply called for him he knew he’d answer in a heartbeat. That was okay too, he smiled to himself. Only to himself, this moment was his and no one could take that away from him.    
  
Absolutely no one, he thought to himself over and over again as Bruce pushed in a little closer and actually laughed in his sleep. Clark only distantly heard it but it was still there.    
  
It put his mind to rest, and for the first time that day, he actually fell into a deep sleep. Where he wasn’t constantly aware of what was around him.    
  
And he  _ loved _ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! leave a comment so the goblin in my brain gets determined to work! 
> 
> Sorry this took a bit, I wanted to do SO much but I settled for something smaller so that the big stuff :00 can be more exciting.


	9. Is this love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) the moment we've been waiting for

There was a gentle hand carding through his hair when he woke up, tangling around it very briefly before sweeping it to the side. A gently repetitive movement. He breathed out softly and immediately knew it was Bruce who was practically petting him. A blanket was covering him up to the hips and it smelt like chicken broth and Wayne Manor. Clark smiled just a little bit, turning his head slightly, and deciding to listen to what was going on around him. 

 

“I really don’t remember how I got drugged, I was just in a building then out of it. I’m sure that I walked out on my own though,” Bruce kept his voice really quiet and Clark heard him shrug his shoulders. 

 

“But why were you there? On that side of the city?” An unfamiliar voice asked, a woman’s. She sounded calm, but confused. He supposed that made sense. Bruce wasn’t being any clearer than he had been when he first woke up from sedation. 

 

He felt Bruce shift his hand through his hair, fingers curling around a lock of it as he clicked his tongue. 

 

“That’s where things get blurry, I was going after something. Maybe a person?” He sighed but continued, “I was doing something, chasing? Doing something in a rush, like I was running out of time to do it.” 

 

The woman coughed a little and Clark shifted again against the stiff hospital bed, rolling over and hitting the stiff wall of Bruce’s stomach. Shoot, was he  _ in  _ Bruce’s lap? How long had he been out? 

 

“Do you remember if you were with anyone?” 

 

Bruce hummed a little under his breath, shaking his head. Clark opened his eyes, trying to play it off like he was just waking up and totally hadn’t been listening to their conversation for the past ten minutes. 

 

“I can’t recall, honestly. It was like I was just in and out. It didn’t feel like any time passed, and when I blinked I was outside and-“ 

 

“Mr. Kent had found you?” 

 

“-Yes, I mean- exactly that. I don’t know or remember what had happened before that.”

 

“Would you say you have amnesia over the event then?” The woman asked, now prodding in closer territory into what Bruce was thinking.

 

Suddenly, Bruce’s thin fingers stopped working through Clark’s hair. Freezing up slightly, his heart rate suddenly bouncing up. Clark heard it drumming in his own head because he was so close. He must have been off the heart monitor. 

 

“It’s more like, I knew what I was doing for a little while, and in the process…” he trailed off slightly, inhaling sharply. 

 

“Mr. Wayne?” Asked the woman, her voice now much more gentler. Clark reached forward and curled his arms around his friend’s waist. Trying to be comforting. He looked directly up at Bruce, looked at the way his eyes had widened and his jaw tighten. His eyes flicked around the room before settling down at Clark.

 

Clark winked a little and Bruce smiled, just slightly. The pale corners of his lips turning upwards. 

 

“I think I might’ve been drugged before I left the manor, maybe even days before I sought out who I wanted to talk to.”

 

“Where would you have been drugged at, then?” 

 

Bruce sighed through his nose, “The charity event, only reasonable place. Something in a drink that was activated by something in the air at that warehouse.” 

 

_ Warehouse?  _ Clark asked himself. That was new. 

 

“A warehouse? Mr. Wayne why were you-“

 

“Strange,” Bruce whispered under his breath, “I fell for it, he baited me and I followed like a  _ dog _ . This is unacceptable, how could I have been so foolish? I should’ve seen it sooner, I should have. I messed up, it’s my fault and no one else’s.”

 

“Mr. Wayne? You were drugged, that’s not your fault- please let me get to the bottom of what’s going on. Talk to me, explain why you think-“ 

 

Bruce interrupted, starting to pet Clark again but his fingers trailed down his face, smoothening over his jaw in a repetitive motion. To calm himself down, with every stroke Bruce’s heart rate slowed just slightly until it was regulated enough. Clark reached up and touched his hand. 

 

“You’re okay,” Clark whispered. 

 

He looked up at him carefully, at the way his pupils were blown out. He was reacting to something, but he couldn’t possibly begin to know what exactly he was reacting to or at. 

 

“-I know what I’m talking about. It’s likely I could’ve been drugged at the event. You know how drugs travel in Gotham. Who’s to say someone hasn’t made a drug that’s triggered by a gas, or even a phrase. It’s completely possible that whoever I was going after also drugged me beforehand. I mean, when I try to think of it in my mind it’s like the memory doesn’t exist. Unless I was knocked out there is no other explanation for it. I’ve had hallucinations, I could smell colors and see things that weren’t actually there and everything was just. Here, in front of me the entire time but I couldn’t do anything about it, when they cut me open-“ 

 

“I beg your pardon? Cut you open? What are you talking about?” 

 

Clark felt his blood run cold, sitting up in Bruce’s lap to try and look at him better. But Bruce was just looking past him at the wall, not even at the woman who sat in the chair across from them. His chest tightened a little. 

 

“Had to take out my liver, it wasn’t any good. Things like that happen and fall out, it’s not really good at all. They had to remove it and it hurt. Anesthesia wasn’t a thing.” Bruce trembled slightly, tilting his head up at the ceiling. 

 

“Bruce?” Clark asked, touching his face

and trying to ignore the fact that the other didn’t even look at him. Hardly moved for a few seconds.

 

“He must be experiencing side effects of the drug,” the woman started writing furiously on a clipboard and he turned to look at her. Specifically her name tag.

 

_ Dr. Marie Wilson  _ was all it read. Not enough information. But if Clark was to guess by the questions she was asking, she was definitely a psychiatrist of some sort, or an analyzer. Trying to pick out what was wrong with her patients to help aid their recovery. Which was fine- it was just the way that she went about it that seemed so real.    
  
Of course, Clark had no idea how long she’d been questioning Bruce for. From the looks of it, maybe a while. There wasn’t a clock in the room to really tell how much time had passed from the time he fell asleep to now.   
  
He decided to divide his attention back to Bruce, sitting up out of his lap and trying to get his attention. First just reaching for his hand, eyes never leaving his face. He was searching for any sign of protest from him, even as he touched the knuckles of his closed fist. Bruce had no reaction he hardly even blinked or looked at Clark. He sat like a tightly wound ball of yarn, unyielding unless the right string was pulled.    
  
So Clark tried to pull the right one, carefully unclenching Bruce’s fist and lacing their fingers together. He ignored how cold Bruce’s hand was and instead looked at him.    
  
  
“Hey, you’re okay. Remember? We’re at Gotham General, you’re in a hospital. No one can cut you open here unless you’re dying and even then, they need someone’s consent to do it. Yours, or Alfred’s. No one else’s, okay?” Clark remembered the calming words his mom used to whisper to him when he first discovered he could do things that other kids couldn’t- like lift full bales of hay and run faster and the time he accidentally hurt his friend and refused to talk to them for a week. He had felt so guilty.    
  
“You’re safe right now, I’m with you, can you squeeze my hand? Just a little, you know I can take it. C’mon, Bruce. We still gotta go find the waterfall so you can’t get all unresponsive on me. Gotta fly sometime soon.” Clark smiled at him, feeling Bruce’s fingers gently squeeze back against his.    
  
Bruce tilted his head back down and blinked a few times, looking back and forth between Clark and Dr. Wilson. An uninterested look played across his face and he tilted his head to the side just slightly at the doctor.    
  
“Something wrong?” Clark tried to urge an answer out of him, not satisfied with the look on Bruce’s face at all. He looked dully bored, then shrugged his shoulders.    
  
“Now that’s been happening since I got drugged,” he said with a click of his tongue, looking at Clark a little- fingers twitching slightly. Needing to do something with his hands, Clark squeezed his hand again.   
  
Dr. Wilson started writing again, asking even more questions. “And how long does it feel like that’s been happening? When did it start?”    
  
Again, Bruce shrugged. “They feel like dreams, except I’m sort of awake through them.”   
  
“Like daydreaming?”    
  
“Yes, but.. Painful. Memories that aren't mine but.. Also fit into the cracks of what could’ve happened or what could be real. Like hallucinations, but with memories instead. It’s odd- honestly they feel real. Like- it’s happening the second I slip into them but when I come back everything is the same and I’m not there anymore.”    
  
“Not where, Mr. Wayne?”    
  
“Just.. there, I don’t know where it is. Somewhere up north, with mountains and a huge lake. I can see it when I close my eyes but I don’t recall ever being somewhere like that. You’re writing a lot, what are you trying to deduce?” He changed subjects really quickly. That was something Clark noticed, it was like he just couldn’t focus on one thing too long without wanting to talk about something else. Just couldn’t decide what to speak about so he tried to talk about many things at once.   
  
Clark related and tried not to laugh, covering his mouth with his hand when Bruce shot him a look and asked,    
  
“What’s so funny?”   
  
“You’re just-” Clark wheezed a little, “You’re talking about so much at one time. It’s cute.”    
  
Bruce rolled his eyes a bit too dramatically and tried to hide his smile. Clark could tell because he was biting his lip. But he turned his attention back to the doctor as calmly as ever.   
  
Dr. Wilson laughed a little, and clicked her pen, “Your mental state after what your doctors think is the drug out of your system. It seems to have some lasting effects on you though. That started before you were found in an alley. Correct?”    
  
“Yes, it started.. A week ago, at least with the obscure daydreaming. But that might be because of my sleep schedule or stress, it’s hard to tell. I used to get nightmares a lot when I didn’t sleep enough.”    
  
“Have you not been sleeping well, Bruce?”   
  
“..No, not really. Ever since the breakout of  _ Ellusion _ I’ve found it difficult. Not because I’m afraid of being drugged- but because of what could happen to people I know if I’m not careful.”    
  
“You sound very stressed. Perhaps for now I can prescribe you a healthy dose of daily relaxation time? Talk to a friend, or draw. Maybe keep a journal for these dreams you have. Just to monitor what’s going on while you stay at home?”    
  
Bruce breathed out softly, hanging his head in relief.    
  
“Yeah, I can handle that. I can go home?” He sounded breathless, finally unwinding for the first time since Clark had been awake. He also hadn’t been gripping Clark’s hand tighter until that moment. If it weren’t for his strength, Clark was positive Bruce could have broken his fingers. His grip was just that tight.   
  
“Of course you can, let me talk to the other doctors and someone will be by with the paperwork.” Doctor Wilson got up from her chair and put it back, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear and walking out with the grace of an angel. Satisfied in her walk.    
  
Clark grinned and looked at Bruce for the first time since he got up, actually  _ looked _ at him. He wasn’t in the hospital gown anymore. Instead he was in a gray sweatshirt and navy joggers. Warmer, and he looked more like himself than he did last night. Acted like it too despite the mini-episode he seemed to have earlier. It was okay though- at least it was manageable.   
  
He remembered what he and Bruce talked about last night and kept smiling, a little softer as he elbowed the other.    
  
“So, I heard you think I smell like hope.”    
  
“Fuck off,” Bruce shoved him slightly and Clark erupted into laughter, “I was hazy and tired, don’t you dare.”    
  
“Like red and blue~,” Clark mused slightly, humming in satisfaction at Bruce’s eye roll and shake of his head.    
  
“Shut up, c’mon that’s not fair at all! I was drugged you massive walnut,” Bruce punched his shoulder and Clark barely felt it. Not that it mattered, it was the gesture that counted. Bruce hadn’t been this.. Friendly towards him before? Sure when they walked to the creek they were friendly but Bruce had clearly been holding back.    
  
Neither of them at that point were holding back. Clark punched Bruce back, not enough to hurt him. The only thing he held back was his strength.    
  
“Well it certainly explains why you jumped into a creek this close to winter.” Clark grumbled, pouting slightly.    
  
“Not my fault you jumped after me,” Bruce crossed his arms. “You grabbed my wrist like I was gonna die or something.”    
  
“You realize creeks aren’t all that deep? Right? You could’ve knocked your head on a rock or misinterpreted. You jumped  _ backwards, _ ” Clark huffed a little.    
  
Bruce grinned actually grinned, “It felt fun though, definitely got my adrenaline rushing. C’mon, it was fun. You enjoyed it a teensie bit,” he exagerated the ‘e’ of his teensie a bit too much for Clark’s liking. Too happy, to.. Was Clark rubbing off on Bruce? Just a little?   
  
“That’s what makes them fun, Clark. We should go back soon, take a nice swim-”    
  
“No, absolutely not.That was scary and cold- wet. Bruce you can’t be serious!!”    
  
“I’m not! It’s just fun to see you get so riled up. It’s like you’re an excited and scared puppy dog. It’s the best,” Bruce made it a point to ruffle his hair and jump up out of the hospital bed.    
  
Clark huffed, rolling his eyes at him and sticking his tongue out. He did follow him, grabbing him by the arms.    
  
“I am not a puppy dog.”   
  
“Are so,” Bruce hummed a little and chuckled to himself. “You’ve followed me this far, haven’t you? Why?”    
  
“Why do you ask?” Clark responded, loosening his grip and just letting his hands rest against the smaller’s shoulders, he and Bruce were the same age but Bruce was just.. So small. He looked like he was breakable but Clark knew the hidden strength inside of him. It was a promise of strength sealed in the thunderous beating of his heart. Something to be unlocked sooner or later.   
  
“You’re the only person other than Alfred who has stayed with me this long, and this close. Without so much as seriously questioning it, why?” His voice was a little stiff, he was trying to hide his confusion and it only made Clark smile.    
  
“Because I like you, got that?” Clark kept smiling, “From the moment I saw you I guess you could say I became interested in you. You were running from men who were shooting at you, you poked a gun that I melted with my eyes and asked questions later. Didn’t see me as anything else than what I am. You’re.. Well you and my parents are the only people who know and don’t see me as anything but me.”   
  
Bruce stared up at Clark, blinking a few times and smiling at him. He reached up and wrapped his arms around his neck, stepping even closer to him. Clark touched his cheek, running his thumb over his cheekbone.    
  
“Understand, Bruce?”    
  
“Loud and clear,” Bruce whispered, tilting Clark’s face down and gently closing the space between them with a kiss. It was soft, and only lasted a few seconds. Clark couldn’t even kiss him back, it was over so quickly and he couldn’t even kiss back. A blush was going all the way down his neck though. He could feel his face heating up and for once he didn’t fight it.    
  
Especially when Bruce rested his head against his chest and just held him close. Clark ran his fingers through his hair and pulled him a little closer to him. Gently resting his chin atop his head,    
  
“Good.”   
***   
  
Bruce was discharged about 30 minutes later, and Alfred was walking them out to the car. Clark’s shoulder occasionally hit Bruce’s as they listened to Alfred’s very long tangent about how he wasn’t letting Bruce out of the house alone for at least three months after that stunt.    
  
He only nodded a long, saying a lot of, “I knows,” and “I’m sorry Alfred, I didn’t mean to get hurt,” and “It probably won’t happen again.”    
  
At the “It probably won’t happen again,” Alfred shot a look at him and Bruce smiled rather cheekily at him. The butler rolled his eyes.    
  
“I cannot believe you just feel all right and better after all of that. You know, Dr. Wilson hopes you actually get better and keep up at least a sketchbook for your thoughts. Don’t think I won’t monitor you too. You should’ve told me you were having those bloody daydreams!” He kept ranting and raving as he opened up the car door. Letting Bruce and Clark slide in. Clark didn’t dare talk back. Or mention that Bruce had practically been locked in his head.    
  
Instead he looked at Bruce, who had buckled his seatbelt and had his knees tucked up to his chin as he listened to Alfred. Nodding along every now and again before interrupting.    
  
“But I’m gonna be alright.”   
  
Alfred sighed, “Yes, you’re going to be alright. For now, you’re grounded from the city alone and it’s final.”    
  
“Got it,” Bruce hummed a little and looked at Clark, giving him a thumbs up. Clark gave him the same gesture back and buckled himself up as Alfred began to drive out of the hospital parking lot.    
  
Somehow they’d managed to spend the whole day at the hospital but it was okay, Bruce was alive. Bruce had- kissed him, they- Clark smiled to himself and drummed his fingers against his knee. He was pretty sure, at least for now..    
  
That Bruce loved him, not as much as Clark loved Bruce- but by enough that it showed. Especially when he rested his head against Clark’s shoulder like he just belonged right there. 


	10. Home Feelings and Whispers

Clark woke up early again and he tried to go back to sleep. He buried his head into his pillow and sighed. He wished he didn’t have this habit. Waking up early was a huge pain. Especially in Wayne Manor. Where he didn’t know if he could wander at his own will less he wake someone else up.    
  
He flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, ghosting his fingers over his lips with a smile. He would’ve never believed that in one hundred years, or rather, a little over a week; That Bruce Wayne would’ve kissed him.   
  
He regretted that he never got to kiss him back as he decided to get up. Clark stretched and started getting undressed. He still stunk of the hospital and he was starting to hate it. It didn’t smell natural at all. A shower was definitely needed and he couldn’t help but spend a lot of his time there once he was surrounded by the hot water. He closed his eyes and breathed in the steam as he got cleaned up. It had become ritual to just zen out in the shower. Let the hot water cleanse him of the previous day.   
  
And cleanse his mind of what was going to come. All at once he remembered what Dr. Wilson said about how Bruce needed to keep up with a journal. Then he remembered what Bruce had said about the ‘daydreams’ he’d been having. Witnessing it happen to him, seeing how Bruce just went nonverbal and get locked in his own mind was horrifying. Seeing someone as lively, sarcastic, and quick witted as Bruce suddenly silenced made his stomach flip. But it was bound to keep happening, whatever he was drugged with still hadn’t been identified.    
  
Something totally new, Clark reminded himself. There wasn’t much he could do other than just be there for Bruce. It was what he had to do, the least he could do. If he could punch the drug out of his body, he totally would.    
  


He turned the water off and firmly toweled himself off, walking out of the bathroom and changing into fresh clothes. A nice flannel and jeans, he rolled on some socks but didn’t put on shoes. He didn’t have plans on really leaving, just wanted to spend the day with Bruce. When he thought of him he closed his eyes and tried to listen for his heartbeat.   
  
To his own shock he heard it nearly immediately, fast and strong. There was no way he had started working out at that hour? Clark looked at the clock and chewed on his lip. It was six in the morning, what the hell? Sure, he was awake, but that was too early for someone recovering from being drugged.    
  
Clark marched out of the room and bounded down the stairs as quietly as he could, not going superfast but fast enough. He found Bruce a little to easily, the teen was hanging upside down from a pull up bar that Clark hadn’t noticed before. He watched Bruce for a little while, watched him start on crunches. He would go up, then back down. Over and over again. A thin coat of sweat was already on his body, how long had he been at this? 

 

He watched Bruce push out a few more crunches before he decided to say anything. He only did when he heard the other wheeze on the way up. 

 

“So you come back from the hospital and not even twenty-four hours later you’re working out?”  Clark leaned against the wall and kept his eye on him, watched Bruce flip off of the bar and land cleanly on the ground.

 

“Yeah,” he sounded out of breath, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Gotta stay in shape, plus it’s relaxing.” 

 

“Is it?” Clark smiled at him. 

 

Bruce just nodded slightly, picking up a towel from the rack and pressing his face into it with a heavy sigh. 

 

“How long have you been at it for?” Clark walked over to him, a grin still on his face. “We could go for a run together around the woods. How about that?”

 

“No, it’s fine.” Bruce said, running the towel through his hair.

 

“Well that doesn’t answer the first question, does it?” He tried to sound as annoying as he could, elbowing his ribs gently. Bruce stood his ground, hardly having moved under the push. 

 

“Fair enough,” Bruce sighed softly and finally looked up from the towel, “Maybe four in the morning, not too long.” 

 

“Jesus, that’s so early. Why?” 

 

Bruce only shrugged at him, “Wanted to, I just woke up early and you’re pulling a massive reporter on me. It’s not appreciated.” 

 

“I just want to make sure you’re alright. You’re kind of acting like nothing happened to you and no offense, but it’s weird.”

 

“Well- I mean, I feel pretty alright.” Bruce started to walk out and Clark just followed him. Down the long hallway and into the large kitchen. 

 

Clark watched Bruce open up a cabinet and come back with two glasses, wine glasses. He raised his brows at him as Bruce set them down.

 

“How alright are you, again?” 

 

Bruce grinned at him and shook his head. He opened the fridge and pulled out a glass bottle of orange juice. 

 

“A little dizzy every now and again, but other than that. Quite fine. What about you? Are you alright?” He asked as he poured juice into both of the glasses, passing one to Clark.

 

Clark looked down at the wine glass of orange juice in his hand and could not help but start laughing. “You poured orange juice into wine glasses..” 

 

“Yep,” Bruce punctuated his ‘p’ with a pop of his lips, “It’s more fun to drink that way. Try it, it’ll make you feel super fancy.” 

 

“Sure, sure it will,” Clark shook his head and sipped from the glass. 

 

“You’re drinking it wrong.” Bruce said with a snort. He gestured to the glass in his hand. How bowl rested in his palm and the stem came out between his middle and ring finger. 

 

“Oh,” Clark adjusted his grip on the glass, “Like that?” 

 

“Between middle and ring, not index and middle. Look, like- that.” He tapped his own finger a few times before Clark finally got it and drank from the glass.

 

“Like that?” He asked as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his wrist.

 

“Exactly, doesn’t it feel fancier?” 

 

“You know,” Clark said while he swirled the juice in the glass, “Kinda, just kinda. Feels like a waste of a good cup. Since it’s supposed to be used for wine.”

 

Bruce gave him a look, nose scrunched up and brows furrowed in an off glance. Then he shrugged and took another gulp of orange juice.

 

“Suit yourself,” Bruce hummed, looking off to the side at the window. Clark had followed his gaze, then just focused on Bruce for just a moment. At the glossed over look of his eye, and the steady way he breathed. 

 

“Bruce?”

 

“Clark?” Bruce looked at him, leaning back against the counter with a short grunt.

 

“Are you actually feeling alright or are you giving me a load of crap?” 

 

“I think you’re pushing my nerves and I want you to stop asking me if I’m okay. Listen, I’ve been drugged before. This isn’t my first ‘rodeo’ so to speak. Sure, this drug is not identifiable and totally new but it has qualities of lots of other drugs. It’s not that big of a deal. It will run its course, eventually.” Bruce had gone on a long rant about it, he had set his glass down and went rigid all over, fingers gripping the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles were white. Clark tried to make himself smaller in the other’s eyes. 

 

“I’m just worried you’ll push yourself too hard, that’s all.” 

 

“I’m fine,” Bruce pushed off the counter and stalked off, down the hall and not stopping. This time Clark didn’t even try to follow him. He stood still before grabbing their glasses and pouring the remaining juice into the sink. 

 

He set off with washing them. He carefully scrubbed the glasses out with only a little bit of soap before drying them with a dish towel. Clark heard a door shut and water start running. He sighed a little and closed his eyes as he continued drying the cups. He didn’t mean to get Bruce angry, that was literally the opposite of what he wanted. That and Bruce had just suddenly lost his nerve with no warning. It was just.. sudden Clark guessed.

 

He heard quiet steps behind him and placed the glasses down on the towel to dry, turning around with a smile.

 

“Alfred, good morning.”

 

Alfred jumped, “Well haven’t you gotten good at predicting people’s footsteps,” he looked over Clark’s shoulder, “Wine? At this our?” 

 

“Orange juice actually,” Clark corrected, “Does Bruce always wake up early to work out?” 

 

“That depends on what he chooses to do, it can be quite scattered. I think he just went up for a shower though.” 

 

Clark nodded, “I know.” 

 

“Is everything going Alright this morning? You’re quite short, and it’s a bit frightening.” 

 

“Isn’t it?” Clark smiled at him, then shook his head, “I’m fine, it’s Bruce. Dr. Wilson said he was having.. side effects but since no one knows what he was drugged with, we can’t possibly know what will happen to him as it leaves his system and-“ 

 

“I assume there’s a point to this, Clark?” 

 

“Yes,” he sighed, “Bruce like- snapped, I was talking to him and asking him if he was okay. He was short, at first and dodgy. I guess I pushed too hard and he kind of, uh.. ranted at me. Or blew up, it was.. bad.”

 

Alfred looked thoughtful for a moment, thumb on his chin as he pondered. Clark watched him shrug his shoulders and shake his head. 

 

“Irritability is a common symptom of drug withdrawal and drugs in general. That could be it, he’s also agitated with himself, mostly.” 

 

“Why? It’s not his fault that he got drugged?” 

 

“Good luck convincing him of that, I tried when you were asleep and he looked ready to throw his iv pole across the room. He’s been irritable since he woke up from sedation. I wouldn’t take it too personally.” 

 

“He was fine when I woke up, I mean besides the.. maybe that was why-“

 

“Pardon?” Alfred asked, walking over to the sink so that he stood just above Clark, “Are you talking about his daydreaming thing?”

 

“Yeah, He was really uh.. skittish then suddenly calm again. Like having mood swings, maybe that’s it?” 

 

“Probably, try not to focus on him too much. I can handle his issues for now and you, in the meantime, should take care of yourself.” 

 

Clark sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, 

 

“I am, honestly. Gotham is the most interesting thing to happen to me so far. As sad as I guess that sounds, I really am, uh- enjoying myself. Bruce is my friend and-“

 

“You have an article to right, Mr. Kent. I don’t want you mixed up in our dealings all the time.”

 

“I’m not, and I’m almost done writing it anyways,” He shook his head, “And I do want to be here, it gets lonely in the hotel and everyone’s been telling me that it’s too dangerous to wander around. So why not stay here and hang out with a friend?” 

 

Alfred smiled at him, and with a shake of his head just patted Clark on the shoulder, 

 

“You’re going to be one fine man when you grow up. Fine, just don’t push yourself too hard with him, he’ll come around and get better.”

 

“I know,” Clark grinned and Alfred rolled his eyes, “I’ll nice him back to health, hopefully.” 

 

“Right, right. Now out of the kitchen, I’ve got to make you two an actual breakfast, run off. Do your article- go,” He practically shoved Clark out of the kitchen, pushing his back forward.

 

Clark jogged out of the kitchen and started to walk down the hall to get to the stairs. He tried to keep his walk quiet as he took a right turn. Following his old route to get to Bruce’s room. 

 

“Jesus, you’re still hanging out with him?” 

 

He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning around as quick as he could.

 

Selina Kyle stood three feet from him, arms crossed over her chest and head tilted to the side in wonder. But she looked angry, brows furrowed. How did she get in without Clark hearing? Was he too hyper focused? Probably. 

 

“Yeah- uh, why?” He asked, putting his hands in his pocket. He tried to act like she hadn't scared the devil out of him.

 

She only nodded at him, then shrugged her shoulders just slightly. 

 

“Not even I could tolerate him for more than three days. How does he not annoy you?” Her voice was quiet. 

 

“Dunno,” Clark said, taking his turn to shrug his shoulder, “He’s not all that bad, serious most of the time but- kind other times.” 

 

“Yeah..” she trailed off then looked up at Clark, “Is he okay? I heard what happened and haven’t had the chance to see him since.. you know.” 

 

He nodded, “I know, and he’s alright- well he says he’s fine. I’m not sure if I believe him though.”

 

“I’m sure that I don’t believe him, let’s drag him out of his room.” She started to march down the hall as if she’d done it a million times. When Clark thought about it he realized she probably did.

 

And he followed close behind her, he tried not to grin. It was funny, Selina cared about Bruce the same way he cared about him. Maybe they could become friends too. 

 

“Alright, don’t say anything, Kansas. Just look strong and I’ll do the talking,” She ordered, pushing Bruce’s door open and running over to the bed. Clark followed her and stood by the edge of the bed as she jumped on it.

 

“Bruce, up. Get up!” She started patting his face several times, “I saw you awake earlier so you don’t get to sleep anymore. We’re talking, got it?” 

 

For a second Bruce didn’t move, or open his eyes and Clark and Selina exchanges a look. Then a devilish smile formed on her lips and she leaned way down to Bruce’s ear. 

 

“Wake up or I’ll get Clark to jump on you!”

 

“I won’t jump on him!” Clark yelled, louder than he had meant too originally. 

 

“Ohh yes you will,” she mused with a bright smirk on her face, “Wait, no you won’t. Better idea, we’ll throw him into the pond behind the cellar doors! How about that, lazy bones?” 

 

A pillow suddenly hit Selina’s face and the room went quiet when Bruce sat up. Not glaring, but not smiling. Just indifferent as he could look. 

 

“Absolutely not,” He said as Selina held the pillow in her hands. “I wasn’t even asleep, so you can’t wake me up in the first-“ 

 

Selina had thrown the pillow back at him, 

 

“This is war, Wayne,” she cried, jumping off of the bed. “Faking sleep and throwing pillows! War!” She grabbed another pillow and tried to throw it at him. He caught it with his other hand. 

 

If Clark wasn’t mistaken Bruce was smiling, then without looking he chucked the pillow at Clark. 

 

“If this is war than everyone is getting involved,” then he was up. He jumped out of bed and it really became a war. Clark grinned and threw the pillow back at Bruce just as Selina threw one at it. Bruce ran out of the room entirely and it became an all out chase after him. 

 

Clark and Selina ran, Selina jumping onto the banister and sliding down when Bruce hit the bottom of the stairs and threw one of his pillows back at her.

 

Somehow she caught it and threw it to Clark, “Nail him in the back!” 

 

Clark jumped down the last two steps and tried to hit Bruce but the other dodged it and winked up at him.

 

“Missed,” He cooed warmly. Selina jumped at him.

 

“Dodge this,” she yelled, catching herself on his back and crossing her legs over his waist so she could stay on. 

 

“Get off!” He yelled, bending backwards with her on him. Clark started to laugh. It was just quite the sight. Selina on Bruce’s back, and Bruce practically red in the face from being attacked by pillows and having a girl bigger than he was on his back.

 

“Never, not until you admit defeat!” 

 

“Clark, Get her off!” Bruce was laughing though, nothing serious. Clark didn’t help though, instead he walked over and picked both of them up.

 

Both Selina and Bruce yelled out, Selina had kicked her legs forward into Clark’s stomach. It hardly hurt but he pretended to hiss in pain. It was only then that Alfred stormed out of the kitchen.

 

“What in the hell is all of this noise?!” He yelled loud enough that Clark flinched, setting the other two down. Selina slid off of Bruce’s back until she hit the floor.

 

“Well originally it was smacking some life into Bruce with pillows but now we’re here. Look at him, he’s lively as ever now.” She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. 

 

“That is no reason to be that loud, why are you here? Clark what are you-?”

 

“Don’t look at me, I was just helping the cause.” Clark grinned as cheekily as he could manage.

 

Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, head hanging low in exasperation. “Ridiculous! You three are like devils when together. Master Bruce, what do you have to say about this?”

 

Bruce shrugged, rolling his shoulders, “It was a good wake up call?” 

 

Alfred glared for at least 30 seconds, 

 

“Absolutely ridiculous, I’ll make breakfast for three then. Thanks for the heads up Miss Kyle.” 

 

“You are absolutely welcome, Alfred,” She feigned a curtsy  at the butler and Alfred just rolled his eyes and walked back into the kitchen.

 

All of them were quiet until Clark snorted, choking on his own laughter. 

 

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Selina mimicked a British accent, “No fun is to be had unless I say so, weh.” 

 

“Be nice, he’s just worried,” Bruce said, running his hand through his hair and taking a few deep breaths. “One day he’ll get used to having guests that aren’t adults.”

 

“Maybe That day isn’t today?” Clark asked.

 

“Definitely not,” Bruce chuckled a little, “Don’t you have an article to write?”

 

“Don’t you have a journal to do?” Clark shot back.

 

“Kansas got you there, Bruce. Look at him, he’s becoming bonafide Gotham teen already, and he’s stuck hanging out with you.” She elbowed Bruce’s shoulder.

 

Clark grinned at Bruce and the other boy just glared at him. Then he smiled, rolling his pretty blue eyes.

 

“Touché, well we both should get started on that. Do you want to journal too, Selina?”

 

She shot Bruce a look, “You’re joking, hell no.”

 

“It was just a question,” he raised his brows, “And an invite.”

 

“No thanks, I’m better off reading something from your marvelous collection than writing my feelings.”

 

Clark looked at her, “You could help me with my article. The school affects people like you, right?”

 

Selina shrugged, “Sorta, I guess. I know some kids who are going in the spring.” 

 

“Perfect,” Clark beamed and she rolled her eyes at him. 

 

“This way then,” Bruce started walking away and into the study. Clark never got the chance to look at it up close until then. The walls were covered in bookshelves and other oddities. A lot of old decor too, and couches beyond the desk. It looked cozy but reminded Clark of an old Sherlock novel. If the detective was real, his study would definitely look like that. 

 

“Shoot, I forgot my notebook. I’ll be back,” Clark waved and ran back upstairs. Zipping up them and into the bedroom he’d been using, then down again just as fast as he came up once he got his book and pen.

 

In seconds he was back in the study, sitting on the couch across from Bruce. Selina settled at his side,

 

“What do you have written so far?” 

 

“Uh, the beginning explanation so far. And a few quotes from locals. Nothing much, it’ll get done though.” Clark looked up and saw that Bruce had already started journaling, or drawing. His pencil was moving across the pages of a book rather quickly. At least he took it seriously.” 

 

“Sweet, let me know when you need something and I’ll do my best to answer your questions. As a local, I do have some knowledge,” Selina examined her nails, then got up to look for a book out of what had to be the hundreds on the wall. 

 

***

 

Their session came to a halt when Alfred came in with a breakfast of oatmeal, eggs, and bacon. Clark set his notebook down and heard Selina dogear the page she was on down.

 

“Alright, here you all go. I wouldn’t suggest throwing things at each other while eating. Can I get anything else?” Alfred surveyed their faces and Selina pointed at Bruce.

 

Clark followed her direction, and looked at him. Bruce was curled up, knees closer to his face. He balanced his journal on his lap and continued to draw. It was more obvious that he had been drawing now. His wrist moved in swift movements across the page, sometimes pressing hard enough that the paper crinkled.

 

Alfred went behind the couch and put his hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Bruce? You have to eat lad. No one got stronger eating nothing.” He gently rubbed his back, and Bruce didn’t make a single acknowledgment. His back stiffened a little, and that was all.

 

Clark cleared his throat, “This happened in the hospital. It takes him a second to come back to reality.”

 

“Where is he, then?” Selina asked.

 

“He said a place he’s never been before but feels familiar,” Clark said. “What did he draw?”

 

Alfred looked over Bruce’s head, then frowned.

 

“Mountains and trees, and what looks like a key. I don’t think he finished quite yet-“

 

Bruce suddenly gasped, the pencil snapping in his fingers. Alfred jumped slightly and steadied Bruce’s shoulders in his hands. He breathed fast, practically out of breath despite having only been sitting. 

 

“Hey, hey, Bruce it’s okay,” Clark tried to channel his inner Dr. Wilson and her calming words. “You’re not where your head put you, remember? Where are we?” 

 

“I know I’m at home, I know that.” Bruce closed his eyes and steadied his own breath. “I’m fine, just.. I’m fine now.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Selina asked, grinning when Bruce glared.

 

“Yes, I’m sure. It happens sometimes.” He closed the journal and put it to the side, crossing his legs, “Thank you Alfred, for breakfast.” 

 

“You are quite welcome Master B, just call if you need anything else.” Alfred started putting plates on the coffee table for everyone quietly, then left the room as quietly as he entered it.

 

They all ate in relative silence, neither of them speaking until Bruce cleared his throat.

 

“Is it really that bad?” He asked, “Like, scary?” 

 

“I mean you become unresponsive and stare into space. It’s like you’re zoned out and we can’t get to you. Is it scary for you?” Selina asked.

 

Bruce stared at her and nodded a few times, “Yeah, it kind of is. Mainly it’s weird?”

 

“Where do you go?” 

 

“See, that’s the weird part. I don’t actually know, it’s just me and this lake house. There’s mountains and a lake, and no matter how far I run I get dragged back by something?” He sounded confused, “It’s all vivid, like I’ve been there before but I know I haven’t. That would be absurd.” 

 

Clark looked at him, “Are you sure no one else is with you?”

 

“I- I don’t know, honestly. Maybe, but I can’t hear them.” He shook his head and tucked back into his food. 

 

Selina bit her lip, “You gasped when you snapped out of it. What happened?” 

 

“Why are you being nosy? You’re acting worse than Clark,” Bruce grumbled.

 

“Hey, newsflash! People care about you, dumbass. So don’t be a prick. We’re talking about you now and you can’t get out of it.”

 

Bruce rolled his eyes way back into his head, shifting a little, “It doesn’t matter?”

 

“Yes it does,” Clark interrupted, “Listen, I saw what happened to you in the hospital. You need to talk to someone, and there’s two someone’s here.” 

 

“Fine!” Bruce snapped, “I was drowning, something pulled me under, no I don’t know what. Happy now?”

 

“Absolutely,” Selina and Clark said at the same time. Except she pegged Clark in the shoulder.

 

“Jinx,”

 

“You got me,” Clark put his hands up, “But seriously, drowning?”

 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Bruce mumbled lowly, crossing his arms and leaning back, “I’m just tired of questions. So can we stop?” 

 

“Yes, we can. Any chance I can drag you outside? We can throw rocks at each other and see who can dodge faster.” Selina suggested, Clark stared.

 

“That sounds awful? Why would you do that?” 

 

“It helps build agility, getting hit hurts so you dodge, and no. Not right now.” 

 

“You’re lame, ew.” Selina scrunched up her nose and got up. “I’m gonna bounce, expect me tomorrow. Any chance Alfred will let you come out of the hole tomorrow?” 

 

“Oh, no. He’s pretty serious about the grounding thing.”

 

“Even if Kansas comes?” She thrusted her thumb towards Clark and he stared at her, raising his brows. 

 

“Yes, even if Clark came,” Bruce sighed.

 

“Okay, well catch you guys later.” She waved and walked out of the study. As far as Clark could tell she left pretty quickly and through a window. He leaned backwards against the Clark and looked at Bruce warmly.

 

“You got out of it pretty quick. Maybe that’s a sign that you’re getting through the drug?” 

 

“Maybe,” Bruce murmured and curled up on the couch, closing his eyes.

 

“Are you tired again?” 

 

Bruce nodded a few times but got up, “A little, a run can fix it though. Wanna go?” 

 

Clark looked up at him, smiling. 

 

“Of course, let's go.” He stood up and walked over to Bruce, throwing his arm over his shoulder and holding him close. “Don’t get mad if I outrun you. Once I get going it’s hard to stop.”

 

“Mhm, I thought so,” Bruce wrapped his arm around his waist and they walked out of the study together. Bruce called out over his shoulder though. Or rather yelled,

 

“Alfred!! I’m going on a run with Clark on manor grounds. We’ll be back later!!!”

 

“Don’t go off properly!” Said Alfred from the kitchen, Bruce smiled and led them out of the massive house. This time through the front door instead of the back. 

 

The wind chill was horrible and Clark braced himself, “Jesus, why is it cold?”

 

“I would assume the time of year?” Bruce asked, and Clark scowled down at him.

 

“Really? I had no idea it was that.” 

 

Bruce snorted a little and started laughing when they rounded a corner and made their way around the manor. It was gorgeous outside minus the wind that swept through. Clark could close his eyes and lose himself in it if he focused hard enough. It felt like Smallville during the winter, crisp and dry with a touch of beauty in the center.

 

He looked down at Bruce, and pulled him a little closer to himself.

 

“So about that uh, kiss?” 

 

Bruce smiled, then looked up at Clark.

 

“It was real?” 

 

Clark flushed, “Un Yeah? It was definitely real. Why?”

 

He shrugged a little, “I couldn’t figure out if I imagined it or not is all. I was still a little out of it when I did it.” 

 

“Hm,” Clark hummed, “Did you mean it?” 

 

“I did, but you didn’t kiss me back at all.” Bruce closed his eyes then looked straight ahead,

 

“I was a bit shocked, I guess.” Clark scratched the back of his neck, “I didn’t think you’d like me like that- ever. So when you kissed me I just, couldn’t react. I was overwhelmed.” 

 

Bruce nodded, “Well, I did act on a bit of a whim. I supposed if you didn’t like me back I could blame it on sedatives.” 

 

“You like me?” Clark asked, and Bruce froze, as if just realizing what he said. His cheeks flushed a soft color of pink.

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Maybe yes or maybe no?”

 

“Maybe Yes?” Bruce blinked a few times, then continued to walk forward. “Yeah, I like you.”

 

“How so?” 

 

“What?”

 

Clark grinned, “How do you like me?” 

 

Bruce blushed even darker and wouldn’t look at Clark, instead looking forward and trying to hold his head high.

 

Then he smiled, closing his eyes as he spoke,

 

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves, Federico Garcia Lorca.” 

 

Clark blinked a few times, “Poetic, I guess you really like me, huh?” 

 

“Love, actually,” Bruce said.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Clark laughed, “Love. So this is what it feels like?” 

 

“Guess so, I mean. What else could it be?” He asked, leaning closer into Clark’s chest.

 

“Strong friendship?” 

 

“No.” Bruce looked up at him, focusing for a few seconds. “I have a feeling you’re messing with me?” 

 

“Yeah,” Clark smiled, “Can I return that kiss now?” 

 

Bruce nodded gently and Clark turned to him, bending down to cup his cheek and kiss him. It was different this time. Not nearly as quick as before. Gentler too, Bruce curled his arms around the other’s neck and pulled Clark even closer to him. They were locked in a beautifully warm embrace and Clark couldn’t get enough of it. He tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss with all of his might. Until he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.    
  
He broke away from his lips and rested his head against his forehead. Still smiling all the while.    
  
“Well that was one way to return it,” Bruce sighed.    
  
“Better than what you did though, right?”    
  
“Shut up,” Bruce shoved him back and Clark snorted, turning them back around to walk back to the manor instead of further around the grounds. He pulled Bruce close to him, feeling his pulse against his body. It was oddly comforting, maybe because Bruce was just so much shorter than him. He wasn’t really sure.   
  
He still wasn’t sure once they walked back inside and were greeted by the warmth and quiet of the manor. Bruce’s head was against his chest and it was only then that Clark realized that the other was actually half asleep while walking.    
  
“No wonder you sleep walk,” he mumbled, picking Bruce up into his arms and carrying him into the study. Bruce only grunted in protest but nothing else once Clark had set him down on the couch. If anything just so he wouldn’t stay asleep for so long.    
  
Clark watched him for a few seconds, and Bruce only rolled over so that his face was pressed flush to the couch cushion. Completely asleep. Clark sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes. He let himself fall asleep to the sound of Bruce’s heart rate dropping into a smooth pace and his mind buzzing with love.

  
  
  
  



	11. Not Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the truth about Bruce is revealed and Clark questions himself.

_ Clark did not wake up in the manor, when his mind cleared of sleep he was laying in a cornfield. But he knew this cornfield, knew it like the back of his hand. He stood up, turning around to take in everything in front of him. It was cold, close to freezing. Not in harvest season at all but the crop was plentiful. Too plentiful, he blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. How did he get there? It made no sense at all! Wasn’t he just in Gotham?  _

 

_ He started walking towards home, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Maybe he sleep ran home, that could be a good explanation for it. Right? It could’ve been a possibility. Clark swallowed hard and kept up his pace. Not brave enough to run. His chest felt tight like something was constricting him. _

 

_ Something was wrong, horribly wrong. Every hair on his body stood on end and he started to speed up. By now the house would be in view, he would see it in the distance. His mom’s truck parked in the driveway because it was too early to go out. Nothing was there, it was just empty ground. A huge patch of grass and dirt trails. As though home never existed.  _

 

_ He felt horrible for thinking it, but he definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore, or Gotham for that matter. His stomach flipped when he finally got to where his front door would be. Clark stood in front of that spot for what felt like forever. Sweat beaded down his face but he didn’t feel hot at all. It was like he was drenched in water, everything amplified around him. _

 

_ Clark turned around and looked at the sky, at the sun. It burned brightly in the sky, and for him, it was a horrible joke. The sun was his beacon, he should feel energized but instead he felt angry at it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to calm down, this wasn’t his home. It wasn’t Kansas. But where else could he be? Everything else looked like his home but the house was simply not there. He clenched his fists and that was when he finally felt it. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ At first it was subtle, just a throbbing sensation in his hand. Then it got more and more intense, a thundering in his hand. He opened his eyes and couldn’t stop the cry from leaving his mouth, he definitely wasn’t back at home. He was  _ **_flying_ ** _ actually flying and he was holding Bruce up by the throat. His hand tightened around his neck and Bruce choked something back. Clark couldn’t hear it exactly. Anger burned through every vein in his body, and he didn’t know why. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He was killing Bruce, he realized. He needed to stop, had to let go of him. Bruce was dying by his hand and he only tightened his grip.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Why?” Clark breathed as Bruce reached up, hands trembling. He gripped Clark’s hands and tried to pull them away from his throat. His heartbeat was starting to drop steadily, becoming weaker and weaker in Clark’s hand.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Let go, he told himself, Just let go of him. His body wouldn’t obey his mind, and Bruce’s fingers only slightly curled around Clark’s before dropping down to his side. In seconds there was nothing pulsing, no roaring thunder to echo in his ears.  _ __   
  


_ Bruce was nothing more than a pile of limp limbs in Clark’s hand. The only thing keeping him up being the iron tight grip he had on him. His stomach churned at the sight and he slowly floated down onto the ground, finding a sense of stability when his feet touched the Earth again. It was only then that he let go of Bruce’s throat, wrapping his arms around the body of his best friend. His best friend that he had just killed. Why? Why had he done that? Why did he kill him? Panic rushed into his chest like a flooding river and he screamed, as loud as he could for the entire world to hear him.  _ _   
_ _   
_ __ He had killed the man he loved, why?   
***

 

Clark woke up on the floor, gasping for breath that he didn’t need but felt comforting to have nonetheless. The hardwood was cold against his cheek and he coughed a few times. Jesus, he couldn’t stop shaking. Where was Bruce?   
  
He got up slowly in an attempt to steady his own mind. His head was pounding, he must’ve thrown himself off the couch in his sleep. That was it. Whatever happened when he was asleep, it was a nightmare. A horrible nightmare that he hoped he would never have to revisit in his life. He looked at his hand and promptly shoved it in his pocket as he walked out of the study.   
  
He was too panicked to focus on his surroundings and ended up running quite literally into Selina again, he didn’t think she would be back so soon yet there she was. Bright, angry eyes bearing into him.    
  
“You look like ass,” she said, raising a brow. “Like major ass, how long have you been out?”    
  
Clark shrugged, “Uh- no idea.. I just woke up. What time is it?”    
  
“About nine in the morning-”    
  
“What!?” how did he even sleep that long? What kind of intense slumber did he fall into?   
  
Selina shrugged her shoulders at him, “Yeah, from what Bruce told me he just thought you needed time to catch up on sleep so he didn’t wake you up. It was really funny watching him wiggle out of your hold. Dude, you were holding onto him like a lifeline!”    
  
He swallowed, nervously. He shifted from one foot to another, maybe there was a reason for his dream then. Stuff happened around him and his brain failed to translate it into: ‘Hey, dumbass, you should wake up now!’ Clark sighed.    
  
“Sorry, I guess my body was trying to catch up with the rest of me. I didn’t even know I was asleep until I woke up.” He tried to laugh, but it even sounded forced to himself. “Ehm, where is Bruce.. Now?”    
  
“Talking to Dr. Wilson. They’re thinking about an Electroencephalography test on him while he has these ‘daydreams’,” she used finger quotes around daydreams.    
  
“Why?”    
  
Selina looked at him, “You ask me that like you think I know.”   
  
Clark shrugged his shoulders at her, “Well, you did just tell me what Dr. Wilson and Bruce are talking about so I just assumed that you did.”    
  
“Well, I do know. Its to see if his brain goes into seizure or coma activity while he has his.. Episodes,” she hesitated for just a fraction of a second, “To make sure they aren’t dangerous for him, I think.”    
  
“I see,” he nodded a little in understanding. “Are they still talking?”    
  
“Yeah, just a one on one therapy thing right now. Trying to settle where he goes and all that.” She leaned against the wall, huffing to herself. “It sucks that this happened to him, of everyone else in Gotham.”    
  
“Well, he’s Bruce Wayne,” Clark said matter of factly. She glared at him, as harsh and as cold as a glare could get.    
  
“Exactly, he’s kind of had a lot of shit happen in his life for him to get drugged with something no one knows about and can’t help fix- is awful. He’s not that bad of a person most of the time.”    
  
Clark tilted his head, “Most of the time?”   
  
Selina rolled her eyes so far back all Clark could see was the white of her eyes, “Yes! Most of the time, he can be a huge ass sometimes. He’s about as stubborn as they get and he does really stupid stuff sometimes.”    
  
He nodded, “I get the stubborn part.. And the stupid stuff,” he reflected back on the day when Bruce had thrown himself into the creek. Clark shook his head, mostly to himself as he looked down the hallway. “Has he always been like that?”    
  
“As long as I’ve known him he has, it used to be a lot worse. At least now he’s smart about what he says to people. It took a few punches through.”    
  
“People hit him..?”    
  
Selina raised her brows, then chuckled, patting Clark’s shoulder a few times. “I’m sorry,” she snorted, “I forgot that you’re not actually from Gotham. Consider it culture, buddy. Almost everyone knows someone who knows someone who runs a gang, club, or is in cahoots with the rich-”    
  
“So, like you?”    
  
She glared at him, long and hard and he regretted what he said for a few seconds. He couldn’t keep eye contact for very long, Selina’s eyes just bore right into his soul. It felt weird because they had gotten along so well just the past day. Now everything felt tense and.. Awkward to say the least.    
  
“Yeah, like me. Except some people know people who could snap kids like me and Bruce in half without trying. I’m surprised they haven’t tried that yet, they got him good in the face a good few times. That’s what happens when you run your mouth, like when I held my knife up to that girl’s neck-”    
  
“That girl is Lucy and she didn’t know-”    
  
“But she could have been polite,” Selina hissed, “Instead she ran her mouth and didn’t even get half of what I was gonna have come to her. I hope she learned from that.”    
  
“I think she did, actually. She hasn’t tried to do something like it since and-”    
  
The door flung open suddenly and Bruce had practically marched out of it. His shoulders were tense and his brows tightly knit together. If Clark hadn’t looked at him hard enough he would not have noticed the tiredness and anger burning in his eyes. He looked so exhausted like he had just fought someone or something. It was the same look he had on his face the first time he saw Bruce have one of his ‘daydreams’.    
  
Clark only took one step forward before Bruce was at his side and had his hand in his. Bruce squeezed his fingers and Clark could feel the blush crawling down his neck. The only time they were affectionate had been in absolute private. When they were alone, but now there was nothing shy about it.    
  
“Are you okay..?” Clark asked the question slowly. Not sure if Bruce had teetered on some emotional edge. He really didn’t want to get yelled at by him again. The boy had used huge words and spoke differently when he was mad. Maybe that was part of the raised rich life. Learning to be passive aggressive and learn to tell someone to fuck off with the grace of an angel. Bruce had certainly learned to do that well.    
  
“Therapists,” Bruce threw his other hand up into the air, “Absolute magic workers don’t you know? Just one conversation can fix everything!” His voice reeked of heavy sarcasm and Selina snorted in response. She had opened her mouth to talk but was immediately cut off when Dr. Wilson and Alfred followed.    
  
“All I’m trying to say is that we can figure out what happens to your body and brain when you have these episodes. Mr. Wayne- Bruce. Don’t you want to know that? What happens while you go to that place in your head?”    
  
Bruce completely stiffened, clenching his hands tightly. Clark ran his thumb over his knuckles, trying to comfort him.   
  
“I do, but I’d rather try to find a way to stop them from happening altogether. It’s like- they’re not even visions anymore, not hallucinations. I feel like I’ve lived through them before but I can’t stop things from happening once I’m there. It’s like reliving a nightmare over, and over, and over again.”   
  
“If we see what happens to your body during them we can figure out how to prevent them, chemically and-”    
  
“Listen, Dr. Wilson,” Bruce’s voice suddenly got soft and his hand gripped Clark’s just a little tighter. It made Clark smile a little because wow, he was actually doing a good job at comforting his.. Friend? Crush? Boyfriend? He wasn’t really that sure but the tension left Bruce’s shoulders entirely and he stood a little taller. When he did that he looked older, and wiser beyond his years as he gazed at the doctor.    
  
“I want to recover from what this drug is, I’m not asking for an instant cure. Those never benefit the long run. I am willing to try a lot, and I already have. However, taking into consideration my past with doctors and studying medicine for my own reasons- I’ve decided that I want to find something that actually works in the long run.”    
  
Dr. Wilson’s mouth dropped when Bruce waited for her response. He tilted his head for a few seconds, patiently waiting as she made a humming noise with her throat.   
  
“What you’re saying, you’re saying that,” she stammered over her words and Selina crossed her arms and suddenly looked very proud. It felt odd, and Clark didn’t understand it until Dr. Wilson finished her sentence, “You want to use your body, your mental health to experiment on ways to cure the effects of this drug permanently?”   
  
“That’s half of it, the other half is that I have no idea if anyone else was drugged with the same thing. I wrote down all the symptoms I can remember-”    
  
“You’re remembering-?”    
  
“Miss Wilson, do let the young master finish,” Alfred sounded closer to snapping than Bruce had when he first walked in. The fire that burned in his eyes was enough to tell Clark that he was missing whatever happened when he was asleep. He looked over at Selina for help, but she only shrugged and looked equally confused.    
  
Everything got quiet for a few seconds, then Bruce nodded and continued explaining his thoughts. Not touching what Dr. Wilson asked of him in the slightest. It was like watching a cat tease a mouse.    
  
“The rest of it is that I don’t know if the symptoms are different with other people. As I’ve caught up on sleep and have done your ‘relaxation’,” He put air quotes around the word, releasing Clark’s hand for only a few seconds before reaching down to hold it again, “Techniques I’ve started remembering snippets. Not the full picture yet, but every puzzle has a solution. It was an airborne type of drug. Which means it isn’t easily flushed but will eventually leave. The dangerous part is the aftermath, which has resulted in hallucinations, adjustments in mood-”    
  
“Yeah no kidding,” Clark whispered, mostly to himself but also just to interrupt Bruce between how long he was talking. It made sense though, at least to Clark. Bruce wanted to find a cure in case the symptoms were worse depending on the person or could lead to death. One life over the probable lives of others. Experimentation on one instead of anyone else. No one could get hurt except for Bruce.    
  
“And.. altered judgment,” he spoke quieter at the last part and Dr. Wilson began to look confused. “If someone other than me got dosed with whatever.. This, is-” He gestured to himself, “They wouldn’t be as calm so to speak.”    
  
“Bruce, I need you to explain what you mean, and what you’re feeling right now. Can you do that for me?” She slowly put both of her hands up and Alfred was giving her an odd look. His brows were raised and he followed her hand movement.   
  
Clark tightened his grip on Bruce’s hand, looking at his face. What had previously been made calm now swirled of so much. He looked confused, even angry. His brows were knitted together and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. When Clark listened to his heart it was beating slightly faster, maybe he was nervous- or excited. It was hard to tell. Really, really hard to tell. He himself was feeling nervous about this whole thing. How long had Bruce just sat there thinking about this?    
  
He let go of Clark’s hand and crossed his arms over his chest, squeezing his biceps as he stared at the doctor in front of him.    
  
“I mean that the effects are starting to get worse, the daydreams are more intense and feel even more real, I’m pretty sure everyone in this room has experienced my lack of control in emotions but also altered judgment. As in, I see something and don’t feel how I would normally feel about it. It’s like impaired judgment, so to speak. Similar to that of when someone gets drunk and goes home with someone they don’t know because it seems like the right thing to do.”    
  
“Are you having regrets about any of your decisions?” Dr. Wilson asked.    
  
“Only a few, I thought about jumping off the roof this morning to see how long it takes before I hit the ground or break a bone.” He shrugged as if the thought was normal then froze up.    
  
Clark’s throat felt tight and for almost a minute nobody talked, they all just started quietly at Bruce. Who looked as confused as Clark honestly felt. Did it not occur to Bruce that he could talk about this?   
  
He couldn’t stay quiet, Clark’s blood boiled when he thought about it. He clenched his fists tightly, trying hard not to blow up. But he had to get some steam out,    
  
“And you just thought to not share this with us?”    
  
“Well, I wasn’t sure if it was impulse or not. I do get those a lot but this thought lasted longer than a day so-”   
  
“Again, so you never shared it?” Clark pressed and Bruce rolled his eyes. “Are you crazy?”    
  
Something in Bruce snapped and he turned around to glare at Clark. Hard, and intimidating. Clark tried to stand taller, he refused to feel small next to him now. Not now, when Bruce hadn’t been honest. Something was still so wrong with him and he didn’t even care to share it until then!!    
  
“No! Just trying to wean off the effects of mystery-drug! Nothing quite like a good old-fashioned, waking up and not knowing where your brain will take you to kickstart every waking moment of every single one of your day’s. I suppose no one would really understand, which is why I say something now!” He looked so angry, then he turned back to Dr. Wilson. Who had been taking fervent notes the entire time. It pissed Clark off too, she could have at least helped.   
  
“So sure, Dr. Wilson. Let’s do those brain scans and see just how far we can get. How about we do my recommendation? It’s simple- really. I think you’ll love it.” He was walking closer to her, something had seriously snapped in him. Selina and Clark looked at each other. She knew too, she noticed that something had flipped in Bruce like a light switch.    
  
Clark didn’t know what to do. It was either grab Bruce and face potential wrath or watch whatever was going to happen. He chewed on his lip,    
  
“Bruce- you’re not as okay as you made yourself out to be. How long do you think you could’ve kept it up?” Clark asked, trying to distract him. His efforts were fruitless though. Bruce didn’t look at him at all.    
  
“I was thinking an MRI, you see loads more that way, maybe we can try some new machinery to see how my nerves react when I go into this.. State,” Bruce flexed his fingers, “Or better yet, maybe attach electrodes to my body and do it that way? Nice and portable?”    
  
“Master Bruce, you need to stop now,” Alfred spoke suddenly, moving his arm over Dr. Wilson and pushing her aside. Hiding her, “I need you to listen to me lad, I’m not mad that you lied-”    
  
“Lied?” Bruce laughed, actually laughed but there was something so bitter behind it. “I feel great, Alfred. I finally feel free, I’m not held back!” He stopped and threw his hands in the air. “It’s like a weight has been thrown off my shoulders entirely. Everything is finally right.”    
  
“It is not!” Alfred yelled, “You aren’t making any sense and you’re not thinking clearly! You. Were. Drugged, and you need help that we can’t give you here.”    
  
“So what’re you gonna do about it? You can’t put me in a hospital against my will, I don’t have to go.”    
  
Clark swallowed hard and took three steps forward, grabbing Bruce around the torso and putting him in a chokehold as quickly as he could.    
  
“Enough, Bruce-” Clark said, “He’s right, you’re not well. Can’t you see that? Look at me and tell me you’re okay!” He forcefully turned Bruce around, shaking his shoulders a little until the smaller stared at him. It was only then that he realized how dilated his pupils were. Clark could hardly see the blue of his iris.   
  
He remembered what Bruce had questioned about the drug, wondering if it had a trigger word or triggered when he went into a certain area. Maybe the former was right, maybe the drug mainly operated on one trigger word and somehow one of them managed to say it. Clark searched his eyes, for anything. It honestly felt like he wasn’t holding Bruce anymore.    
  
“I’m perfectly fine, Clark. Can’t you see? This is how everything’s supposed to be.” Bruce caressed Clark’s cheek, a soft smile danced across his lips and it was all Clark needed. All the proof he needed.    
  
He sucked in a breath and headbutted Bruce, feeling him become a limp weight in his arms. He had knocked him out in that one movement and felt nothing on himself but there was already a lump on Bruce’s forehead.    
  
“Clark, that wasn’t necessary-” Dr. Wilson tried to speak but Selina cut her off. Faster than Clark could, maybe she sensed that Clark was about to bite her head off with his words.    
  
“Sure it wasn’t! But it did the job, now I don’t know about you guys but that was so not normal. I’ve seen people drugged out and that,” she pointed at Bruce’s unconscious body, “Is some of the highest telltale signs of it. I don’t know how he hid it but if he doesn’t get help soon.. I don’t know if he’ll ever be okay again.   
  
Alfred nodded, taking Bruce from Clark’s arms quietly and holding him close to his chest. It immediately made Clark think of his own father when he did that. Clark looked at Dr. Wilson. At the mixed emotion in her eyes and the adrenaline running through her veins as she looked between Bruce and the door.    
  
“Yes, we need to go now. Come on, I can get us in through a back entrance.”   
  
And that was how Clark ended up squeezed in the back seat of the car with Selina next to him. Bruce’s limp body across their laps. The main goal was to keep him both asleep and obviously safe. Which was easy enough.    
  
Clark had Bruce’s head resting in his lap and he started to card his fingers through his hair, humming something soft to him. If the real Bruce was in there under this drugged out mess of a teenager. Surely.. He’d hear it. Right? 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this boy emotionally empty YEET

Clark felt useless sitting in the hospital room, he could only listen to what other people were saying. After all, he didn’t really get what was going on. Just that whatever Bruce was drugged on had been triggered. It felt so weird. Everything about what had happened. He recalled when he found Bruce in that alley, with a bloody lip and his heartbeat fluttering in and out.    
  
He closed his eyes and listened to Dr. Wilson, he mostly heard her stick the electrodes to Bruce’s scalp. Clark’s stomach twisted, because it was all against Bruce’s will. The moment they got him into the hospital he woke up and simply stared straight ahead at something that wasn’t there. Even when he was laid down on the bed he was just still. Seeing him attached to a machine also made Clark’s stomach curl. He just looked so unbothered by it, and it unnerved him. 

“Okay, we’re going to sedate him so he goes into the hallucination state.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Selina scuffed her boot on the ground. She didn’t look scared but Clark could hear her heartbeat, and she was as scared as he was. She had known Bruce longer, they worked together before it seemed like. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. Not emotionally.

Dr. Wilson shot her a look, “That’s what it is.” She went to a tray and prepared a needle and syringe carefully. As if she’d been planning this. Then it hit Clark that she probably had been since Bruce became her patient. It made something in Clark flicker for a moment as he watched Dr. Wilson stick Bruce with the needle and inject the sedative into him.

Clark chewed on his lip and watched him for a moment. Bruce’s lashes fluttered briefly and his jaw clenched. He looked like a wall of tension laying in a hospital caught. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling before he closed them and his head tilted to the side. The sedative did its job, but it only made Clark more anxious.

“What if you trap him in his own head? Have you thought of that?” Selina’s voice was sharp, punching a hole through the air. “He’s been hallucinating and he freezes up-“

“This is for his benefit!” Dr. Wilson cried.

“He didn’t want to do this for his benefit, may I remind you I only allow you to do this because we don’t have a choice,” Alfred snapped, he looked as tired as Clark felt, and the lines around his mouth tightened in anger. Clark knew that type of anger very well. It was anger from pain and experience. The doctor shrunk back under the man’s iron gaze.

“So, I will remind you, Miss. This is so that he can help other people who have also been drugged with whatever this is. I will not let his wishes be turned to deaf ears because of one incident.”

“He lost himself to the drug Mr. Pennyworth. Do you think he could’ve been in the right mind to make that decision?”

Alfred paused and Clark couldn’t take it, he got up from his chair and mustered every ounce of his will to not yell.

“Well, He was decently alright until something triggered the drug to work. In the beginning, he even guessed that whatever is in his system could be triggered by a word or even by gas, or a certain area. Did anyone else get that we narrowed down what got it to kickstart in his system? It’s either a trigger word or maybe it needed time to start working. Good lord,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath in. He needed to calm down, really did. “The doctors flushed his system, right?”

“Everything they could do,” Alfred confirmed.

“Great, which means it was in his system for a while before a few days ago. Since it was flushed and still ravaged his mind. It’s already taken host and hasn’t left his body, but he also said it was an airborne drug..” Clark paused to think about it.

“Which means he was drugged a second time to increase the effects,” Selina finished, sending a glare to Dr. Wilson. “And somehow you missed it?”

“Until this point, I was his therapist, I can’t draw information from what isn’t told to me unless I have enough information to make deductions.”

“Well at this point you’re just a bitch who’s putting her nose where it doesn’t belong!” She jumped up, stalking over to the doctor. “You run this test and get the hell out. I know doctors better than you who won’t use excuses to justify their behavior. Bruce wasn’t open with you for a reason I will defend whatever reason that was, drugged or not.”

Dr. Wilson stared at Selina for a long moment. They bore daggers into each other with nothing but their eyes. Selina’s words spoke for herself though and Clark agreed with her wholeheartedly. Bruce wasn’t the type to open up easily, but Clark doubted he would keep useful information from someone who genuinely wanted to help. Bruce also had a knack when it came to reading people, most likely from past experience with trusting the wrong ones.

Alfred stiffened slightly, “As his guardian, I give you one last liberty of doing this scan, then I want you to leave this room and let me handle the rest. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Dr. Wilson crumpled, her shoulders slouched and she connected one last cord into the machine. It instantly lit up with lines bouncing up and down at a smooth pace. Clark swallowed, looking over at Selina.

She was clenching her fists, letting herself slide down into one of the chairs. Her eyes were ablaze with anger and something else. Something Clark wasn’t sure of until she leaned into his ear and whispered.

“If she hurts him, you knock her out cold or I’ll kill make her gargle her teeth.”

Clark nodded, “Roger Dodger, and if Alfred doesn’t beat us to the punch?”

Selina looked over at Alfred and smiled softly, “Yeah, if he doesn’t get there first.”

The man raised a brow over at them and Clark couldn’t help but laugh a little bit before turning back to Selina.

“What Doctor will come though? Once this is over?”

“I’m glad you asked, give it a few minutes. Alfred knows what he’s doing. We sorta know someone who knows a good doctor. Right now it’s how fast she can get back into Gotham if she even agrees to help him.”

“I see,” Clark looked at the machine again and noticed that towards the end it made steeper motions up and down. Dr. Wilson gasped softly.

“I knew it was some sort of seizure activity,” She started writing furiously. Alfred was actually glaring at her. None of it hidden anymore.

These movements on the graph only lasted for a few seconds before dissipating. Dr. Wilson only kept talking, as if she needed to explain her worthiness. It was desperate.

“I suspected that a seizure led him into these hallucination states because he went completely blank and didn’t recall what happened to him other than the hallucination itself. The seizure is a way of entry, a brief shutting down of his body. Absence seizures can be that way, but I had a hunch it meant something else. I was right.”

Clark shifted in the chair and looked at Bruce. He looked as though he was sleeping. His face perfectly calm and devoid of any stress. Yet inside he was experiencing something completely different. A true case of don’t judge a book by its cover. Not in this way.

Everyone got quiet after that. Silently sitting and watching the machine and or Bruce. It was only after ten minutes that a phone went off and Alfred quietly excused himself into the hallway.

Clark got up and walked to the bedside, since Alfred left he wanted to be the one close to Bruce in case Dr. Wilson tried something else. It was also this close that Clark could switch on his x-ray vision and look into Bruce.

“He’s scared,” Clark said.

“No, he’s completely fine. He isn’t waking up yet, he’ll be alright.”

Clark frowned, then grimaced as he turned to the doctor in the room. His own anger was beginning to spark and boil.

“Or he isn’t waking up because he’s been sedated and can’t. His heart is going faster and adrenaline is flooding his system. Haven’t you got enough information?” He asked, trying to keep his voice as even as he could.

Dr. Wilson scowled at him and turned the machine off, pulling the electrodes from Bruce’s head and packing it all away.

“Fine. If you think he’s scared then.”

“I don’t think, I know, Dr. Wilson. It’s one thing I am sure of right now.” Clark glared at her as hard as he could without triggering his heat vision. Trying to get his message across to her.

She huffed, “Like you can tell, he’s not attached to a heart monitor or anything and-!”

Clark gestured to Bruce’s throat, “You can see his pulse through the jugular. Please, I am in a high school health class.

Her eyes bugged out of her head in anger but before she could say anything else Alfred came back into the room with someone else by his side.

He knew who it was before he introduced himself, who didn’t know the hero cop? Clark had met him days ago. He just forgot how many had actually passed.

“You called a cop?” Dr. Wilson snarled, snapping her clipboard over her chest.

“More like I called him, I’m detective Jim Gordon.”

“I know who you are, and I know. I’m going! Alright.” She tried to shove past the two men but Gordon grabbed her by the shoulders and held out a piece of paper.

“Once you give me any information you have on Bruce, you can. Now please, don’t make this messier than it needs to be.”

Dr. Wilson looked utterly shocked, and she stumbled to find words before her shoulders dropped. She handed that damn clipboard to the detective and stormed out of the room. Frustrated, and angry. After all, she had thought of she fixed this drug issue it would boost her reputation and popularity. Now it was ruined by a butler, detective, street girl and tourist. It was almost laughable.

“Alright, explain to me what’s going on so I can relay the message.” He looked at Clark when he spoke and Clark looked at Alfred.

“Me?” Clark pointed at himself.

“Yes,” Gordon said firmly.

“Oh. Okay, uhmm.. Bruce was drugged twice, the second time being a few days ago. It’s an airborne type of drug and it causes hallucinations, mood swings, and altered judgments. But the hallucinations are triggered by seizures and he gets unresponsive. I think that the drug's effects are triggered by a certain word. Bruce went from calm to crazy in seconds. Like something switched on him. Before she sedated him he was relatively calm if he wasn’t in that hallucination state..”

“And right now, what’s going on?”

Clark looked over at Bruce, “Dr. Wilson sedated him to do an EEG without him freaking out. Except he’s currently in the hallucination state, and can’t wake up. He’s terrified, and trapped in whatever his mind creates.”

“Did you catch that, Lee?” Gordon had a phone to his ear. It was the first time Clark noticed it. He squinted slightly at it.

“ _ I did, I’ll be in Gotham in a little under an hour. I’m driving as fast as I can. Try to do anything to wake him up that isn’t violent. Stabilize him if you can.” _

Clark swallowed a little when he heard the line click. Gordon closed his phone and walked next to Clark, they both looked at Bruce.

“Wake him up, how the hell are we going to do that?” The detective sounded so tired, a bite in the back of his throat as he spoke.

Everyone was quiet for a second, then it dawned on Clark. Bruce’s adrenaline was up but it wasn’t enough. He looked over at Alfred, then at Gordon.

“An adrenaline shot, it’ll give the extra he needs to come to.”

“Got it, I’ll be back with it.” Alfred left the room and came back two minutes later. Gordon raised his brows.

“How did you convince the staff to give you that?”

“For the same bloody reason they’re employed, important business involving Bruce Wayne.”

“We should get an actual doctor,” said Gordon.

Selina was up again, walking around the bed, “Yeah, and have another Dr. Wilson? I don’t think so.” She took out her knife and cut open Bruce’s shirt, gesturing down at the spot of skin she’d let see the light. “Go for it. Stick it in.”

Alfred sighed, “Ruined a good shirt,” he mumbled before he inserted the needle and injected the syringe into Bruce’s bloodstream. Close to his heart so it’d work faster. It was a waiting game then. One Clark didn’t have the patience for at all.

He went back to his x-ray vision. Watching the adrenaline spike up and Bruce’s heart pump faster and faster. Then his muscles contracted and before Clark could look at him normally he was coughing awake.

Bruce turned over onto his side and kept coughing, his lungs rattling every few coughs or so. His eyes had finally opened and he tried to even his breathing on his own. Trying to gain control over himself again far too soon. It was messed up, so messed up. Clark reached over and rubbed his back. Bruce drew his knees closer to himself and the last rounds of his coughing fit became nothing.

“Gave us a huge fright there Bruce. You alright?” Gordon ruffled his hair, walking over to the side the billionaire was facing and kneeling down. “It’s gonna be alright, I called Lee over. She’s going to help you and mean it. Okay?”  His words were reassuring but for a few seconds, Bruce didn’t respond to them. It wasn’t until half a moment later that he nodded and cleared his throat. 

“Okay,” his voice was hoarse. “How long have I been out?”    
  
Gordon looked over at Alfred and the butler walked even closer, putting his hand on Bruce’s forehead carefully.    
  
“That depends on what you last remember. Would you mind enlightening us?” He tried to smile, but the worry on his face was too evident. Clark understood that he really did and couldn’t express that enough through the soft look he tried to give him.    
  
Bruce slowly sat up, balancing on his elbows. His brows knit together and he shrugged.    
  
“We were in the hallway and I was talking about.. I think it was symptoms? Was it that?” He leaned over to look at Selina and Clark followed where his eyes went.    
  
Selina had managed to get to the door before she kicked it and turned around. It looked like she was trying to leave and Clark felt a little guilty that she couldn’t God knows everything was intensely awkward and thick with tension.    
  
“Yeah, mood swings and stuff. Then what happened?”    
  
“I.. uh- woke up here? But that’s obviously not what happened. Can someone fill me in?” He asked. He sounded awful, really awful and there was this glazed over look on his face. Like he wasn’t fully awake quite yet.    
  
Selina crossed her arms, “Something triggered the drug and you went crazy and started ranting about how you were free and Dr. Wilson was a fool. Basically, I mean you were half right. It was like you without any self-control. Pretty scary- right?” She grinned.   
  
Bruce’s eyes widened, “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know that’s.. Awful. I’m sorry I did that to you guys-”   
  
“Hey, it’s not your fault. Blame whoever drugged you, speaking of I’m gonna see if my sources got any intel. I’ll be back later.” Selina waved and dashed out of the door, shutting it behind her with a subtle click. Clark listened to her heart until she left the building and looked back down at Bruce.   
  
He stared at the door for only a moment longer than looked up at Clark, “Did you know she was?”   
  
“Nope,” Clark shook his head and shrugged. “At least she’s trying though, I didn’t even think of asking around.”    
  
“That’s not your job to do though, it’s technically mine. I’m going to step out to make some phone calls and talk- I’ll be back in.” Gordon patted Clark’s shoulder a few times then walked out in a similar fashion. But still lingered in the hallway. Which felt honestly reassuring more than anything else.    
  
Alfred cleared his throat quietly and sat down in one of the chairs for the first time since they got to the hospital. Almost all of the tension left his shoulders and he raked a hand through his hair. Then he looked up at them and smiled.    
  
“So were either of you going to tell me about your building romance or was I supposed to watch and keep quiet?”    
  
Clark felt the blood drain from his face and he looked back at Bruce, who had a smug smile on his face despite how tired he looked. He looked over at Alfred, still smiling.    
  
“I wasn’t quite sure how to explain it yet. In fact, I would like a moment to talk to Clark alone. Please?”    
  
“But of course, just yell when you want me back in, B.” He got up, practically grinning, and walked out of the room. It was just Bruce and Clark, in the silence of the horribly white hospital room.    
  
Clark tried to laugh, “How do you think he found out?”    
  
Bruce shrugged, “Probably saw us holding hands in the hall. Which was my fault. But I really do need to talk to you.”    
  
“You know I’m all ears,” he sat down next to him, reaching for his hand. They curled their fingers together and Bruce scooted even closer to him. That was when he started to whisper, his voice a low and quiet hum in Clark’s ear.    
  
“I want you to go back to your hotel until all of this is settled,” Bruce said, “I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of whatever this is. It’ll be safer for you this way, you shouldn’t have been dragged into this in the first place.”   
  
Clark’s throat tightened, “What? Bruce, you know what I am. I don’t- I’m not going to stand aside and let you do this alone. Whoever did this to you, I want to find them!”    
  
“Listen to me, Clark, I need you to seriously listen to me. I don’t know what this drug is doing to me. I’m not alone. I have Alfred, Detective Gordon, and Selina. All of them know how Gotham works, and once this is over I’ll be able to find the person myself. Right now though, I just want you to stay out of this. When it’s said and done I’ll come for you, okay? I’ll ring for you in the hotel.”    
  
He looked up at Clark, and gently caressed his cheek. He brushed the pad of his thumb over Clark’s lip and looked at him seriously, “I care about you, a lot. If anything happened to you I would never forgive myself. Listen to me, please. Just go back to your hotel, finish your article, and I’ll come for you.”    
  
“Can I at least stay with you for the rest of the night?” Clark breathed out shakily. He wasn’t going to cry-  Bruce said he’d come for him. That meant something, it had to.    
  
“..Yes,” Bruce hesitated for a brief moment and pointed Clark’s chin down. He could hear his soft breathing and the rampant pulsing of his heart. Clark couldn’t help but smile down at him.    
  
“And can you promise me one thing? After I leave Gotham?”    
  
“I’ll do my best to keep it, depending on what it is.” Bruce looked at the door then back at him. Clark used it as his chance to pull the other closer by the back of his head. He rested his forehead against Bruce’s and ignored the hiss from him. He knew he bruised him when he headbutted him earlier. He still felt a little bad about that.    
  
“Come to Smallville the day before Christmas Eve. I can show you around my town instead of what we’re doing now. I’m sure ma and Alfred could have a holiday pie making competition.”    
  
Bruce laughed softly, “Really? You want me to celebrate Christmas with you?”    
  
“We tend to get snow, it’s a pretty white Christmas and there are lights everywhere. It’s really pretty, and not to mention fun. It’ll be great. C’mon, a little Christmas too cheery for you?”    
  
“I haven’t exactly celebrated it in a while.”    
  
“A true shame,” Clark gasped, “Which means I have to drag you to Smallville to celebrate! C’mon. Promise?” He kissed Bruce gently, tilting his head just so.    
  
Bruce ran his fingers through his hair, “Fine. I promise that once this is all over, and you go home, that I’ll spend Christmas with you. Okay?”    
  
“Okay!” Clark smiled, kissing him again. They both sit like that for a while, just kissing and being close to each other because Clark doesn’t know how soon he’ll see Bruce again after tonight. They both lay down in that tiny hospital bed and Clark feels a wave of deja vu run through him but he supposes it’s alright.    
  
At least he has this last night with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this chapter took so long, I'm awful at writing transition chapters and I've been really indecisive about where I want this fic to go. But I'm starting to tie together some loose ends. I also made a tumblr specifically for my writing which you can find here: https://brunchyarts.tumblr.com/ (get it, I'm brunchyarts on there and brunchywrites here? no, too much? woops) I reblog writing memes so a lot more light hearted and easy to read content is gonna go there!! It's also where you can send me questions if you wanna know anything else about me or this fanfiction! (It's my pride and joy after all haha) I also shitpost a lot and make memes. I want to thank you for reading this silly au this far, and thank you for the support that you've given me as I write this. 
> 
> Till the next chapter!!!! See ya!


	13. A new hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still suck at writing arc transitions I'm sorry

The trek back to the hotel was awful. Clark hated every second of it, he had his last night with Bruce and he’d say he spent it well. Whenever Leslie wasn’t checking him over and doing blood tests and simple psychology exams he sat close to him. He let their fingers lock together, told quiet jokes in any private moment he got. Then he had to go, because he made a promise and Clark was going to keep it no matter what happened.    
  
Bruce would come for him, he knew he would. It was the earnest way in which Bruce had told him that, that convinced Clark it was true. But, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his chest from blooming as he walked up the stairs into his hotel. It felt like it had been so long since he was there and everything felt foreign. A rock settled in his stomach when he met Mr. Jones’ eyes. Why was he up so early? 

“Great to see you back, Clark!” His voice was so cheerful and it made his stomach drop even further, he felt sick.

He tried to smile at his teacher, really did try to, but it felt like he was bearing his teeth instead of smiling.

“You too Mr. Jones. Sorry for being gone with no warning, Bru- Mr. Wayne,” he corrected himself in front of Mr. Jones. After all his interactions with sources shouldn’t have ever been personal. “Took me through everything and got me in with a few other sources. I got to meet Detective Gordon.”

Mr. Jones clapped his hand over his shoulder and gave him a proud look, “That’s incredible!! I’m very proud of your work. I know you tend to push yourself but seeing your effort is always refreshing. How’s the article coming along?”

Clark sighed and forced the smile to stay on his face while he explained everything to do with his article to Mr. Jones. Truthfully he was so tired, he didn’t sleep at all the night before and a bed was calling to him. Yet he kept going until Mr. Jones finally got that Clark was tired.

“You should get some sleep, greatness never came from the lack of sleep. We’re going to a restaurant as a class later tonight if you would like to sleep till then. Formal wear is required.” He smiled and left Clark to his own devices.

He walked all the way up to his hotel room before he remembered that he left the door locked and left the key at Wayne Manor. Clark groaned and hit his head on the door, letting his forehead rest on the wood before he tried the doorknob.

It turned when he turned it and he breathed the biggest sigh of relief in his entire life. He walked in and flicked the light on.

His suitcase was on the bed with a note card on top. He walked over carefully and took the piece of paper in his fingertips.

_ Master Bruce requested that I return your belongings while Dr. Thompkins aided him. It’ll be a pleasure to have you back soon, Mr. Kent. _

_ Best of luck, _

_ Alfred Pennyworth _

Clark put the suitcase on the floor and read over the note a few more times. Bruce had planned this, probably thought of it when he was in the hospital the first time and formed a plan from there.

“Asshole,” Clark mumbled before he placed the note on the nightstand and flops down on the bed, finally laying down. Sleep overtook him the moment he closed his eyes, except for the first time in the past few days, he dreamed of nothing. He thought it was worse than the nightmares.

 

***

When Clark woke up the first thing he did was put on deodorant and get changed into his suit for the night. The class was going to a super fancy restaurant, and he honestly didn’t feel up for it. He felt like he was thinking through a cotton mask as he finished tying his tie and walked to the mirror to put on his thick rimmed glasses.

He really missed Bruce, more than he thought he was going to. Everything felt lonely, there was no one to talk to. No one was around to make jokes with, no one who knew what Clark really was and wouldn’t freak out about it. Being able to be honest with Bruce was a huge weight off his shoulders and he hadn’t realized it until he was alone.

Clark turned on the sink and started to wet his hands, he reached up and started doing his best to style his hair. He slicked it back, huffed when that one damn curl in his hair wouldn’t go back. Gel nor hairspray had been able to tame that one wild curl. He switched to brushing his teeth, after all he was raised on a farm, not in one.

He patted his mouth dry after swishing and spitting, picking up the room key which had been left on the dresser (to his surprise) and put on his dress shoes. The last time he was dressed like this he had gone home with Bruce, he recalled with a smile.

He walked out, locking the door behind him. He took a deep breath and walked down to the lobby. All of his classmates were laughing, talking excitedly about the restaurant. Clark smiled and walked over to Lucy first, she looked excited to see him.

“Oh my god, you’re back!” She hugged into him and Clark noted her dress with a gasp.

“You’re dress, you look great, Lucy.”

“Thanks, Barb said it looked great. Do you think it’s too much?” She shifted the skirt slightly, letting the soft fabric fall down with grace.

The dress has a sequin bodice with sheer long sleeves and the skirt was long with black fabric, bell shaped. She must’ve gotten it in one of the stores in Gotham. Clark knows there’s nothing like that sold in Smallville.

“Yeah, really sparkly. I think it’s great though,” he smiled and the look on her face made it worth it. Lucy tucked some hair behind her ear.

“I’m glad, also!” She pokes his nose, “You,Barb, and I are sitting at a table together by the way, we need to catch up. Bruce Wayne, huh?”

“Bruce Wayne,” Clark swoons dramatically, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. Lucy snorted out a laugh. “He was so beautiful, so eloquent.”

“Shut it,” she pushed his shoulder slightly and he couldn’t help but grin. It felt more natural to grin with her.

Barb ran up to them, adjusting her heel along her way. She wore a red dress, and looked completely stunning. Gotham fashion made everyone look incredibly well dressed. Clark offered her a smile and she beamed at him in return. 

  
“Don’t you look handsome,” she patted his shoulder. “It’s great to see you again.”    
  
Clark nodded, “Thanks, I feel a little undressed compared to you guys though. New dresses?”    
  
“We got them yesterday at a small little shop, figured they’d be worth it. I kind of want to wear mine to prom.” Barb’s smile is shy and delicate and Clark appreciated that for what it was worth. She tugged at the hem just slightly, despite it only ending just above her knee.    
  
“Pff- just prom? Barb, I’m wearing mine every other friday. Smallville High better watch out!” She snapped her fingers and Clark snorted.    
  
Mr. Jones clapped his hands together and everyone got quiet. Clark looked up at him and adjusted his glasses. After all it made it look realistic. He smiled at him and Mr. Jones cleared his throat.   
  
“Alright! We’re leaving now, everyone remember to stick together and act properly when we get to the restaurant. Capiche?”    
  
“Caposh,” the entire class answered, and they all left in a cluster of groups.    
  
Clark walked, flanked on either side by Barb and Lucy. They chatted about the shop they got their clothes from and he tried to listen, honestly did. But it was hard to focus on their conversation when he was trying to pick out Bruce’s heartbeat.    
  
It was hard, he felt like he had to listen to the cacophony around him for a minute before he picked it out. The soft thrum of it in the distance made him smile, at least he was going out for someone. He looked over at Lucy.    
  
“So how much was your dress?”    
  
The girl flushed a bright shade of red, “Ehrm.. you know- like.. Eighty dollars?”     
  
“More like add two hundred to that number,” Barb barked slightly, erupting into laughter as she held onto her sides. “Clark, I wish you were with us, the clerk thought she was NUTS for trying to buy a dress that expensive. What were you wearing? Jeans and a flannel? She looked like she walked right out of Kansas and poofed into that building I swear it.”    
  
Clark chuckled, and shook his head. They were nearing the restaurant now, and he got why Mr. Jones said to dress formally. It was an absolutely huge place and the lights were so bright he could see them through the windows. Everyone who went in and out were dressed impeccably and it had that rich person smell that Clark had learned to both love and hate at the same time, like an old painting.   
  
They crossed the road and carefully made their way inside, the floor was beautiful red carpet and there were candles on every table. Everything felt throat tightening classy and he tried to mind himself to not look everywhere. He focused on Mr. Jones as he went to the host podium and explained a reservation. Clark didn’t think he’d ever seen Mr. Jones look more nervous in his life, but corralling a bunch of teenagers into behaving in a prestigious restaurant.   
  
Mr. Jones gave them a quick wave and they started actually walking into the restaurant. Everyone immediately looked up at the ceiling, gasping- and Clark could see why. The ceiling was entirely stain glass and utterly captivating. It casted the most gorgeous shadows over the entire dining room.    
  
He let Lucy pull him towards a table, he listened to her awe filled words.    
  
“It’s incredible! I wonder how long it took them to put in this ceiling. It’s so gorgeous. Honestly- have you seen anything so incredible?” Her voice gets lower when they take their seats at a table. She seemed to know where they were supposed to go, Clark really didn’t.    
  
He smiled up at the ceiling and shrugged a little, “I dunno, probably not.” But he sort of- had seen a person so incredible before. He stopped those thoughts quickly though, he really shouldn’t be hung up on a guy. That was-    
  
Clark swallowed, it was like it just dawned on him how weird his situation was. He’d never likes guys before he had met Bruce. What made him so different? Clark sighed softly, closing his eyes and just resting for a few seconds. The he got elbowed in the ribs.    
  
“You okay, Clark?” Barb asked. He tried to smile at her.    
  
“Tired, I haven’t been sleeping well lately, I guess.”    
  
“I bet! I mean you got to interview Bruce Wayne, I wouldn’t be able to sleep either.” Lucy grinned at him, balancing forward on her chair. “Speaking of that- how was it?”    
  
Clark blinked, “How was what?”    
  
“Meeting Bruce Wayne, you egg,” she rolled her eyes and huffed.    
  
He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders just so as he looked at the candle on the table. It flickered beautifully under the stain glass and he smiled even more.    
  
“Alright, I guess? He was a really great person, he’s very caring. You know? He opened that school with nothing but good hopes.”    
  
He looked over at Lucy but she didn’t seem satisfied. Her arms were folded over his chest and it was only then that he realized she wanted more.    
  
“Bruce is also really smart- like super smart,” Clark continued, with a smile on his face the entire time, “He quotes a lot of super old books and I’m pretty sure he’s an architecture nerd? Also has a lot of old art in his manor. There were so many creepy paintings.” 

 

“Really? Was he creepy?” Barb asked.   
  
“Nah, not at all. Just has a lot of creepy stuff in his home, makes sense though? The Wayne family has been around for a pretty long time.” Clark shrugged again and looked at the ceiling. Just for something to do for the most  part. He couldn’t believe he was talking about Bruce when he could be next to him in seconds. Yet there he was, he felt ridiculous. Like a fool in love when he probably shouldn’t have been.   
  
“Wow! I wish I could’ve met him, ugh. Is he handsome in person? C’mon Clark, tell me how hot he is.” Lucy poked his arm a few times before he gave in with a laugh,   
  
“Quite handsome, actually. I’d be jealous but he’s still kind of small.”   
  
Lucy clicked her tongue, “Well not everyone grew up on a farm.”   
  
“Hey, that was mean, and all of Smallville basically is a farm,” Barb rolled her eyes and looked down at the menu. Clark followed her eyes and good god- he didn’t know what anything was on the menu. He whistled lowly. Some menu indeed. This place must’ve been expensive, and hopefully worth it.   
  
He kept looking over the menu, once, twice, and he still couldn’t make anything of it. Not really, some of it was in French and Italian. Nothing was written in English and it only made it more difficult.   
  
That was when he heard a familiar heartbeat, he hadn’t heard it in so long and he couldn’t help but look up when Barbara Kean walked over to them. Both Lucy and Barb looked frightened for a second. It was fair though, Barbara was wearing a plum colored dress with a fur shawl, hair done up elegantly with silver heels on her feet. Always the impressor, Clark missed seeing how she dressed. He didn’t realize it till now. She grinned at him, waving her gloved fingertips excitedly.   
  
“Fancy seeing you here, Clark.”  
  
“Like-wise, Miss Kean,” he nods at her and she offers him her hand. It takes him just a moment to remember what he’s supposed to do. He swears his dad went through city manners with him before he left but they’re all gone from his head. Clark dips down and kisses the top of her hand.   
  
“Wait, you know _her?_ ” Lucy whisper-asks, “She’s so pretty!”  
  
“Why thank you!” Barbara grins and pinches Lucy’s cheek with her fingers, “You look darling yourself, so pretty in that dress. I can’t believe your teacher picked this place to go to dinner at. Ugh, you have to try the filet mignon and the lobster bisque,” she hummed slightly and took a seat at their table.   
  
Clark nodded, “Yeah, I can’t read anything on this menu to be honest. I’ll go with what you suggested.”   
  
“Good! And when you order we can talk outside before the food gets here. I’ve learned some good.. Information for your piece,” her voice gets low at ‘piece’ and he nodded in understanding. She meant Bruce, it had to be. What else could it possibly be? He forced another smile onto his face.   
  
“Sounds great-”   
  
Barb interrupts, “I’m sorry, but how do you know her?” she sounded mostly shocked but Barbara leaned forward and tilted her head.   
  
“He was at the Wayne charity event doing interviews! I’m one of his interviewees, I’d like to say, the most interesting one in fact. At least the best looking, I mean come on,” Barbara rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath, “Naturally we talked more and he’s a good kid. You guys go to school with him?”   
  
“Yes! We’re in his journalism class. We’re writing more on Gotham’s culture as compared to Smallville’s. It’s so cool, everything is really pretty here.” Lucy said.   
  
“Nothing held back either,” Barb smiled softly at Barbara, “By the way, your outfit is really pretty.”   
  
“Awe, thank you. I got in yesterday,” the girls got into a deep conversation about clothing in comparison and eventually even delving into fabrics and the economy. Clark didn’t care to listen, he looked back at the ceiling and wondered what information Miss Kean had for him.   
  
Luckily the waiter came by a moment later and they all ordered the same thing, filet mignon with the lobster bisque on the side with water. It was only when the waiter left that Barbara grabbed onto his sleeve and started to pull him from his chair.   
  
He got up and followed her out of the restaurant, back into the cool night air. She turned to face him, a stern look on her face.   
  
“I know the guy who developed whatever the guy used to drug Bruce with.”  
  
Clark blinked a few times, “What, how?”   
  
“I just do! And I need your help getting to him, because I think he hates me and might release whatever drug this is- into Gotham. I don’t know but you’re- all muscular and I’ve seen you do that thing with your eyes. So I’m asking you, as a favor, to help me with this.” She put her hands on his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes.   
  
He swallowed hard, “Yeah, it can’t be that hard.. Right?” he asked her, and she just smiled at him. It was refreshing to see and she carefully pulled him into a hug. Her thin arms wrapped around him tightly.   
  
“With you? I’m not sure if it will be. But I’m so glad that you’ve agreed, we start tomorrow morning. You know where to find me,” she let go and walked away, giving Clark a short wave and a softer look on her face. She looked relieved and Clark waved back to her before he made his way back into the restaurant. Now with so much more on his plate that wasn’t just food. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I hit a roadblock but finally figured out what to do! I have a tumblr specifically for my writing in which I'm a bit more active on if you'd like to see my smaller works in the dc fandom or send me a writing request! Thank you for reading, and welcome to the third and final arc of 3 Weeks in Gotham. https://brunchyarts.tumblr.com/


	14. New Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark learns about what Barbara wants him to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long in writing this, I let myself indulge in more personal works to get through some stuff irl. But chapters should be being written faster now that I’m out of a funk. If you want to ask any questions, read my smaller works, or simply say hello, my tumblr is @brunchyarts. Thank you for reading my weird ass au!!

Clark woke up early the next morning, just as Barbara had instructed him. He slowly got out of bed and peeled the curtains from behind the window open, relishing the sun and taking a deep breath. Clark didn’t know what was going to lie ahead of him anymore. The article was practically finished and now he was just helping because he wanted to. He reminded himself that he absolutely did not have to help Barbara with this. It was just a nagging feeling in the back of his head that if he didn’t help there’d be something major he would probably miss then never get.

He closed the curtains and walked into the bathroom, rinsing his face with water and getting started on brushing his teeth. He watched himself in the mirror for a second, he didn’t look tired but he noticed that he definitely looked different.

Damn, he’d been away from Kansas for way too long. He rubbed his face and spat into the sink, rising his mouth out and leaving to go get changed. The quicker he did this the better, especially since the guy planned to release whatever that drug was into Gotham. If Clark was too late in finding this dude- there was no telling what could happen.

He shuffled into a tee shirt and jeans, pulling on his leather jacket along with shoes and socks. He felt the need to take his time, noting everything he put on for the day before snagging his room key off the dresser and walking out of his hotel room.

The hallway was chilly and Clark shifted his jacket and zipped it up as he made his way down the stairs, all ten flights of them moved behind him before he can even think. He hangs a left and left the building without much of a second thought.

Time was his enemy and his savior as he walked down the sidewalk. The sun tingled against his skin and people passed him in waves. He was getting better at blending in amongst the crowd and by the time he made it to The Sirens he only got bumped into two times.

Clark walked right in, shutting the door behind him and breathing out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding for so long. Barbara stepped out from behind the bar, not as elegantly dressed as she normally was. She wore a black dress with a plum colored cardigan, hair styled in a simple bob. Her face said seriousness but she walked over and hugged him. It was gentle and warm, but she pulled back.

“His Name is Crane, he’s apparently been making drugs for a while and- leave it to the GCPD to lose track of him.”

“I thought they were good cops?” Clark asked, and the look she shot him was enough to make him regret what he had said about them.

Barbara clicked her tongue and gestured about with her hand, “Sometimes they’re good cops. Most of the time they do what they want to their own benefit. I had the chance to date one for a while, but let’s not get into that!” She clapped her hands together.

“I had a source that told me he’s working from a warehouse on Gotham harbor. You are going to try and get in with his gang.”

“He has a gang?” Clark’s jaw dropped, he didn’t want to get involved in gang violence, really did not want to.

Barbara shook his head, “No, not yet. That’s left to you.”

“I don’t want to get involved in something violent, I don’t know- if I can. I leave in a week and time doesn’t last forever. What if I can’t get on his side?”

She gave him a look, then smiled. Patient, she was being patient with him, “See, that’s where I have you covered. I’ve talked to him about you, about how hard you work, how smart you are, and mostly how strong you are. He’s willing, and I’ve seen what you can do. I’m asking for maybe three days, that’s all. Just three and if things don’t work out- I’ll handle it. Catch.” Barbara tossed him a flip phone, already preprogrammed with her number and an unknown one.

Clark looked at her and she continued,

“If anything happens you call me and I’ll be there as fast as I can. Hell or high water. Just remember that, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks,” he swallows down a lump in his throat as he slips the phone into his pocket. “You really think he’ll just accept me? And let me help him?”

“Of course he will, you’ve a kind heart and Crane, has an even nicer one. He’s just a bit on edge, that’s what happens when the police chase you practically out of town. Want me to drive you there?”

He didn’t think they’d start then, so soon in the day. Clark chewed on his lip and took a deep breath in, slowly. He tried to ease his nerves, it was only three days. He could get information on this drug and had a sliver of a chance of convincing Crane to stop trying to put it out in Gotham. But even that was a huge maybe, he closed his eyes.

“Please.”

When he opened his eyes Barbara had grabbed his hand and was leading him out of her club, one step at a time.

“I can’t thank you enough Clark, I really can’t. I swear this is the only thing I will ask of you. You are truly too kind.” They’re walking towards a silver sedan, new model too. He looked over at her and tried to smile, because honestly he was so nervous he could feel his heart against his chest.

“You’re welcome, it’ll be the last thing- mostly because I can’t once I leave,” he tried to joke about it. At least it would be something to calm his nerves as he sat down in the car, buckling up as soon as he could and leaning back against he seat. His heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, how was he supposed to do this? Convince a man to basically let him be a side kick. Try and tell him to stop drugging people? For all Clark knew, Crane was absolutely insane and was going to actually kill him.

———-

Barbara was silent nearly the entire drive to the harbor, and so was Clark. He watched all the people pass through the window, streaked blurts against the glass. He supposed he had to be his best self to convince Crane he was worth something. He was strong, he had that much at least. Maybe if he broke a table it’d be convincing- or a cement block. That would probably be better.

Clark looked forward an it felt like no time had passed between the time he got into the car and the drive there. Gotham Harbor was a looming, beautiful thing. There were so many docks, the gray waters licked the edges and there were warehouses practically lining the area like it was a neighborhood. Barbara parked the car and shut it off

“I believe in you, okay? I know you’re gonna be great, and it’s three days and I’m one call away.” She opened her door and Clark nodded, doing the same and stepping out into the chilly air. He stuffed his hands into his pocket and shut the door, taking his spot right next to Barbara as she carefully walked amongst the sea of warehouses.

They all looked the same but also different, most of them were covered in vandalism while others were simply inoperative. A cat darted in front of them then went on it’s merry way. Clark felt ease at that, letting himself slowly relax as they approached a warehouse with newspaper covering all the windows.

He could hear the heartbeat inside, and he closed his eyes, listening to it drum as he walked to the door with Barbara. She knocked three times, then kicked the door. He opened his eyes just as the door swung open.

The man at the door was thin, limbs long, tall- slender. Almost like a living ghost but his eyes were as clear as a cloudless day, he first gave Barbara a look, then his attention snapped back to Clark once she began to speak.

“Crane, this is Clark, Crane, Clark.”

“This is the boy you told me about?” His voice sounded like gravel over ice, and it made the hairs on Clark’s neck stick up. He looked over at Barbara, and she only smiled and stared at Crane with an intensity he honestly could not explain even if he tried to.

“Of course, he’s brilliant. A really strong guy, fast too. I think he’s just what you need,” she patted his shoulder, and Clark looked at Crane.

Clark smiled the best that he could, “Hi.”

The lines around Crane’s mouth deepen and suddenly the man flashed a smile, teeth yellowed, “He’ll do, what’s his pay rate?”

Pay rate?

“I was thinking you could be the judge of that, Clark’s a good kid and doesn’t know what he’s worth. Or he does but doesn’t say,” and she laughed, it echoed in Clark’s ears.

He was worth Bruce Wayne, that was all Clark could think of. Crane was the man who drugged him, who caused- so much damage. He remembered that girl from a week ago and his stomach does a flip.

Both Crane and Barbara looked at him and Clark laughed, “Sorry, I spaced out. I- uhm.. yeah. Don’t really know how paying works, this is my first job.”

Crane chuckled, “Brilliant, thank you Barbara, I’ll take him now,” his hand reaches over and he holds it out. It took Clark a second to realize he’s supposed to shake it and he had been shocked to find how cold he was. “Mm, strong grip. You’ll do just fine Clark, come in. It was a pleasure, Barbara, but we’ve work to do.”

“Certainly Mr. Crane, anytime,” she turned on her heel and just.. left. Clark watched her go and then looked up at Crane once again.

“Well, lets go Clark,” Crane put his hand on Clark’s shoulder and steered him inside of the Warehouse. It was damp and oddly warm on the inside, and to his own surprise, very well lit. He could see everything from the odd trinkets that decorated all of the plastic tables, to decent looking lab equipment. There were boxes strewn about everywhere, and something was making an awful buzzing noise. Probably the lights.

Clark kept looking around, gazing at the walls of brightly colored liquids,

“Do you use these to make the drugs?” He asked, looking over at Crane as the man had started to organize something.

“Indeed, I do. I wouldn’t recommend touching that wall. They’re prototypes of new things I’m working on.”

“Hm.. cool, uh- weird of obvious question..”

“Go on.”

“Why do you make drugs? I mean, you’re a doctor. Right? Why don’t you work at an ER instead of making drugs?”

Crane paused for just a second and Clark regretted even asking that question. But before he could apologize the man was already answering him.

“Because I want to rid Gotham of fear, and you can’t do that from a hospital room, you’re awfully chatty.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m kind of nervous. First job jitters and all of… that,” he shrugs and continued to walk around. Most of the boxes had yet to be unpacked and he switched to x-ray vision to get a better look through. Most of it was more equipment, as well as cleaner. For a brief moment he wondered if Crane lived here, in the warehouse.

“That is completely fine, here. I’ll give you a task to keep you busy for the time being. Can you go out in the city and people watch?”

Clark blinked, “Pardon?”

Crane clicked his tongue, “I need you to go watch people in the city, give me a report on everything you see when you come back. Arrive before midnight and we’ll discuss it further. Now go, make use of yourself.”

He nodded, “Yes sir,” Clark walked out of the warehouse, taking a deep breath into the fresh air and starting his walk out of the harbor. Out of all the things he thought he would have to do for Crane, people watching was not on his list.

At least it wasn’t anything massive or dangerous, he was decent at people watching too. It was especially easy, he’s been doing it since he got to Gotham.

He wondered for just a moment if he could skip it entirely, but at the end of the day there wasn’t much else he could do. So he went back into the city, avoiding people. The streets were crowded and smoke billowed from factories on the side of the city he was in. It felt like Gotham was separated not only by class, but by culture. Things were different everywhere Clark went, and it was intriguing to him. To see everything for what it was, Gotham was nothing like Smallville. The city had so many things to offer, and he hoped Barb and Lucy could capture all of the culture the way Clark had seen for himself. Maybe he could offer them advice too.

Clark kicked a rock and continued on his way through what he guessed was the work district. People were actually dressed- Well functionally. That was all he could really think. They also looked and sounded exhausted, he could feel for them. Stress practically rolled off of them in billows and it was a shock at how different it was as compared to where he was staying.

He stopped in front of a factory and looked up at it, well- the people that trickled out. Somehow it was already five o’clock and time had escaped him.

He decided to walk around more, noting how one man briskly ran in the streets on his cellphone, another woman yelled and shook her fist at the sky. She had been fired. It was utter chaos manifested in this one part of the city, Clark reckoned he’d seen enough of it and decided to leave. There wasn’t much else to witness.

Well, there wasn’t much else to witness until a man walked out of a building. There was a weird look in his eyes, pupils blown out. Clark could hardly see the ring of his iris and the man’s heartbeat was rapid. Uncomfortably so. Clark walked over to him, trying to think of a lie as quickly as he could.

“Excuse me, sir? Can you tell me the way to-“

“Get lost, I don’t have time for this.” The man waved Clark away, but he had to press on. There was just something too familiar about the look on his face.

“Please, I’m lost,” he pressed further, how far could he have taken it?

The man sighed deeply, pressing his hands to his face, “I. Don’t.Know. I said get lost god dammit- fucking tourists,” the man walked away before Clark could even get a word it. That had to be enough people watching. He looked around to see if there was a lock anywhere but there simply wasn’t one. He took a breath and left the city. He took his time getting back to Gotham Harbor and the sun was setting.

Clark was back before midnight, so surely that was something. He walked inside of the warehouse carefully,

“Mr.Crane?”

“Doctor Crane,” The thin man corrects him from underneath a huge machine. Clark doesn’t even know what it is and he didn’t ask about it either.

“Sorry, uh, I did what you asked me and I’ve got more than just people being people.”

“Go on.”

Clark blinked a few times, then stared at where Crane worked on the machine,

“This man, his pupils were blown out and he was really angry, unnaturally angry. He seemed bitter about something and I tried to ask him for help to see how he’d respond and, well he wasn’t kind. I’ve seen stuff similar before, except he wasn’t crazy and paranoid.” Or he was and simply took it out on Clark by telling him to get lost. That made more sense.

Crane slid out from under the machine, and grinned.

“Perfect, you did excellent. We’ll resume this again tomorrow. Be back at exactly noon,” he walked over to Clark and patted his shoulder, “What you witnessed was something of my design. I can not believe it has passed around so fast…”

“Sorry.. what?”

“Well, you see, I’m developing a drug that rids people or fear, but first they must go through unimaginable fear. Then they reach a homeostasis and never feel it again.”

Clark thought back to Bruce, “Does it cause hallucinations?”

“Of course it does, I’ve managed to program an exact scenario into the drug. It plays out something that feels like a memory, but is artificial. The person will soon believe that this happened to them and chase after more memories of it, and by doing that they trigger the cycle of fear on a loop. After the cycle, or twenty four hours, they’ll be left completely fearless. So far my experiments have only gotten halfway through the fear cycle before they got arrested or hauled off to Arkham. You see, without fear, we as humans can do anything. It’s an Ellusion! I’m already there myself. Otherwise I don’t think I’d tell you this.”

Clark tried to offer a smile, a lot of this was acting. He had to at least pretend he had the same views, or it was game over for this whole plan.

“I see, and- Wait. You took the drug yourself?”

“A doctor who doesn’t trust his own methods on himself is not a good doctor. I was patient zero in all of this, testing and all. Quite simple, a bit painful sometimes, but that’s life. Now get some rest, we’ve a big day tomorrow, you and I,” Crane returned back to the machine and Clark took it as his chance to leave.

The moment he stepped out he was taking the phone out of his pocket, he couldn’t believe he had forgotten about it until then. Barbara would need all the details.

When he walked back to the hotel he did his best to text her every single detail about what had happened. Especially with the drug, he didn’t mention Bruce, but his mind wandered with what could possibly be going on with him at the moment. Had the fear cycle been triggered already? Would he even recover?

Those were questions he’d have to ask tomorrow, about what the effects are. He thought about writing a list, but that seemed too shady. Maybe he could seem interested.. that may work better. People like you whenever you share their views. Clark knew that first hand. Still, he had two more days left with Crane, gathering information, and it seemed like the man genuinely trusted him.

Clark walked into the hotel and briskly went up the stairs, taking out his key and unlocking the door to his room. It was oddly quiet, and when he flicked the light on the room was nearly exactly how he left it, minus one small thing.

The camera he used for the charity event wasn’t where he left it. Clark starts opening drawers, looking for it. It was like the camera had just disappeared entirely from the room- that or it was stolen. The later was more probable.

He took a breath and tried to calm his nerves, after all he had been going through, he can’t believe a camera got stolen from him.

Just another thing on his ever growing plate of things to do and find. 


	15. The Straw Before Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His second day with Crane feels so much worse

He woke up with a disgruntled feeling in his chest, weighed down by the force of what he had to do that day. Clark didn’t want to, it would have been so much easier to go back to bed. Unfortunately, it was already nine o’clock and going back to bed simply wouldn’t do him a favor. So he got out of bed, recalling what he needed to do. Find the camera, no- work for Crane, then camera. Text Barbara or see her in person? Clark didn’t know. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.   
  
The show he had to put around Crane is exhausting, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up. Everything felt wrong about it, just thinking about the man sent shivers down his spine. What if he couldn’t keep it up? He was asking himself a million questions and he felt so… exhausted. He was sick of it. He wanted to go back to Smallville, as exciting as Gotham was- it was too much at one time.   
  
That and he couldn’t get Bruce out of his head, some crush? Hah, laughable- now he was pacing. Worried, maybe a bit half to death. Crane said that victims of the drug either got arrested or sent to Arkham, and lost their fear entirely. What was to become of that? Was Bruce even aware? Too many thoughts, questions, they swarmed his brain and he had to remind himself to take a deep breath.   
  
Today, then tomorrow, and he wouldn’t have to so much as look at Crane again. He could leave, maybe go back to Wayne Manor; Even though Bruce told him to wait. Clark could not shake the anxious feeling out of him. He just needed to see him, one more time. Then he would listen and it’d be okay.   
  
Clark makes quick work in changing clothes, dark clothes, same jacket, he slips the phone into his pocket and started to leave the hotel after his locking routine. The weather is shit, and it matched his mood. Maybe it was the weather that had Clark on such an edge. Smallville was mostly sunny, occasionally cloudy, if you didn’t count the rain season. But Gotham, well- seemed gloomy almost all the time save certain occasions. He walked down the stairs in an attempt to savor his time.   
  
And he hears Mr. Jones heartbeat from down the hall and has to suck in a breath. Clark bolted down the stairs to avoid conversation. He felt guilty but… he didn’t want to blow up on his teacher. With every emotion stewing in him he feared he just might.   
  
Ah, feared, how horribly ironic. He smiled to himself and shook his head, this was insane.  What was he doing? Why didn’t he just say no? Couldn’t Crane just reject him? He had nearly thrown his hands into the air in frustration. Clark hated this, okay- maybe that was too strong of a word to use. He just didn’t want to do this anymore. It was wild, crazy, completely out of his own world.    
  
He made his way out of the hotel entirely, stuffing his hands in his pockets.The wind was particularly horrible that day. Clark couldn’t focus on much else but the mission he had on hand. Yes, he had to think of it as a mission, that and he had to keep reminding himself that he only had two more days left of doing it. Then maybe.. He could find an answer to all this.   
  
His thoughts drift back to Bruce as he walks to Gotham Harbor. Mainly how he’s doing, he’s seen _Ellusion_ perform at its worst on one woman, and see it perform differently with another. A drug like that shouldn’t exist but.. It wasn’t made by Crane. Was it? He recalls hearing about this Strange person. There had to be some sort of deal there, between Crane and Strange. Clark felt like a detective in an old novel, trying to put together the pieces of his thoughts and memories. So it’s definite, almost definite that Crane and Strange have some sort alliance going on.   
  
And he was determined to get to the bottom of it. He plastered a smile on his face and almost happy marched back to that horrible warehouse. 

***

The warehouse is still dingy, and it’s noon on the dot by the time Clark walks in. A smile is still on his face, expertly crafted. He had newfound purpose flooding through his veins. If he can get any information out of Crane, he’ll be grateful. He opened the door with ease and walked in, moving through the sea of empty cardboard boxes. Maybe he’d rip them up so they’d be flat and throw them away. That would definitely be useful. He found Crane, the man was curled up next to a machine, tinkering with it before he even noticed Clark’s presence.   
  
“You’re timely, that will get you a magnificent job one day,” his voice is still at that annoying tone that made Clark’s skin crawl. It just sounded so grim- and rough.    
  
“Thank you, I.. wanted to ask you a question. If you don’t mind,” he looked down at his shoes and looked back up. Crane was watching him, eyes dutifully narrowed as if inspecting Clark. He made a note to stand a little taller next time. Crane looked close to a mental breakdown, like that woman he saw in the street. It makes his chest ache to look at. Like something is unfortunately, missing.   
  
“By all means,” Crane made a wide gesture with his hands, “Ask away.” He stood up, a little hunched over. Probably from working too much without proper stretching.   
  
Clark gave a short nod, folding his hands behind his back, “Well, you see. I remember when I first came to Gotham- people talked about how it was someone named Strange’s doing- y’know with _Ellusion_ and all of that. But then you told me you made it and I was wondering if.. You guys are partners?”   
  
“What else do you know about Strange?” Crane’s voice struck a lower octave than what it was before and the hairs on the back of Clark’s neck stood on edge.    
  
“Nothing, honestly. I’d never heard of him until I got here. Just rumors, a lot of being a tourist is walking around so you hear basically everything that people wonder about. He’s obviously a doctor, and so are you.. So naturally-”   
  
“Ah, you just assumed?”   
  
Clark nodded again, keeping eye contact with Crane. He tried to focus on him with all of the strength he could muster.   
  
“Then you’ll be right. Strange and I are partners, he’s able to administer it, and I just make the drug. Simple, really. We have similar ideals for Gotham so it’s easy. Don’t you agree?”   
  
“Yes sir,” his voice trembled just slightly but Crane put one of his thin hands upon his shoulder and Clark nearly flinched, but gritted his teeth, bared a smile, “Perfectly agreed.”

 

“Good,” Crane purred and it made Clark genuinely shuddered. His voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “This will be a lot easier with you. You’re a strong guy, I can tell by the way you walk. I want you to deliver something for me.” 

 

Clark bit his lip, “Okay, uh.. where to? And what?” 

 

Crane moved quickly, too suddenly. He walked to another corner of the warehouse, kicking a box in the process.   
  
Clark followed him, carefully stepping past  more boxes. He tried to walk quieter than he had been before, on his toes. Crane was quicker, turning around with a small box in his thin hands. There was definitely something inside, a bottle. Of what, he could only guess was the _Ellusion_ drug itself.   
  
He was going to have to deliver drugs to someone, he did not sign up for this. It felt like a cruel reminder that he shouldn’t be doing it. A rock settled itself in his stomach and he swallowed down something. Was it pride? Or perhaps it was fear. Either way, he took the small box as it was handed to him.   
  
“There is a manor among the hills at the edge of the city, on the countryside,” Enthusiasm had leaked from Crane’s mouth like inky snakes, eyes alight with something Clark truly could not describe as anything but demented glee, “Van Dahl Manor, amongst the trees. I just want you to leave this amongst the doorway. Propped up, and leave. That is all.”   
  
He nodded, biting his lip and he looked down at the box again before daring to meet Crane’s eyes. The doctor’s heart rate was so fast, too gleeful over this. Insanity, Clark learned, worked in strange ways.   
  
“Not a problem,” Clark said, but he didn’t really mean it. 

 

***

He raced to the outer edges of Gotham city, his legs aching under the burn of his jeans chafing in the dampness of the daytime. Everything became almost worse, and eerily familiar at the same time. Housings of course became smaller, less cramped. Only a few small cottages dotted the outermost edge of the city.    
  


Green grass rolled for miles, the sky a gray patch above him as it swarmed with clouds. The weather was to be frank, awful, and Clark didn’t like it. His energy levels were dropping and he had to slow down his speed as he approached the wooded area Crane told him about. All of this would have been infinitely easier if he had an address. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a luxury given to him. However, it did give him time to actually think, long and hard about what he was doing. 

 

 It surely wasn’t right, but it felt so infinitely worth it. Of course he’d been thinking of Bruce. Who he might be able to give a cure too. Maybe Bruce has already begun working on something to fix it for his own self and everyone around him. He wasn’t sure how someone would willingly let themselves be their own test subject. Then again, he could look at himself and ask the same question  _ Why are you working with a madman?  _

 

Gut feeling, he told himself. His own gut perceived what he had to do and what he didn’t need to bother with. This was his gut instinct to do, even if his brain told him to cease this nonsense and go back to what he was supposed to do. Writing his article, sitting in a hotel room and watching the rain fall from the window. That was unrealistic though, Clark had never been good at sitting still for too long. Even if he was writing, it would never be enough to truly sate him.   
  
He’s sure his parents would agree. A pleasant memory fills his mind, of his mom telling him to run outside and pick weeds till there’s none left so he isn’t just bouncing in the kitchen while watching her cook. In truth, he managed to get every single weed out within the hour and ran back inside asking what to do next.   
  
Clark felt the same then, still looking for something to do one hour after the next. This was no different, he told himself. In the distance the manor was looming, tall- threatening almost in it’s own garish way. It had more colors than Wayne Manor, looking more like a castle than anything else Clark had seen before. The sun was begining to set, and he knew he had to start oving quickly.   
  
He rushed to the door, ready to just set the box down and be done with this whole thing already. One more day, just one more day of doing whatever Crane wants and he will never have to face the man again if he chooses so.   
  


 

There is just one problem though, and that’s the door that creaks open the very second Clark managed to prop the box there. Something builds in his throat, short of.. Cursing, or running. He wasn’t sure about it, nor did he even look up to see who opened it.   
  
“Oh! Student journalist, it’s you.”   
  
Clark absolutely could not mistake that voice than anyone other than Edward Nygma, the man he saw at the charity event. He looked up at him, and tried to smile. But his knees shake, his palms sweat, he would never expect to get caught. He wants to disappear, curl in on himself and vanish from thin air at this stupid mistake. If only he’d been listening, if he’d been paying attention he would’ve heard the man coming to the door before it opened. Clark just had to be too caught up in his thoughts to even think about that. Of course, god dammit. It was only his stupid luck.  
  
“It’s me,” his voice trembled and he wanted to smack himself for it.   
  
He finally gained the courage to look up at Ed Nygma, his brown eyes felt taunting and he smiled a smile that reminded him way too much of Crane. It makes his neck hair stand on end once again. A horrible feeling of deja vu washed over him in a cold sweat.   
  
“Well don’t you just look a nervous wreck, calm down. I already know what you’re doing.”   
  
He.. what now? Clark’s eyes widened and he stared at Nygma with every look of confusion he could muster. How was that even possible? It shouldn’t have been, Crane would never plan ahead. This was ambush, sabotage- but a man who just walked out of the Van Dahl manor knew.   
  
“..What?” Is all he could manage to say at the time.   
  
Nygma rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose, “Barbara told me, don’t worry so hard. You’ll give yourself a heart attack at the rate you’re going.”  


“That makes sense, yeah.. Okay.” If Barbare put faith in Nygma… maybe Clark could too. 

 

He bent down and picked up the box, smoothening over his suit as calmly as ever. As if some stranger showing up on his doorstep was an everyday occurrence. For all Clark knew, maybe it was. Either way, if Ed Nygma was shocked, he did not show it in the slightest. Even his heartbeat and breathing were as calm as could be. Carefully, he peels into the box and looks at the vial inside, grinning.   
  
“Oh this will do, thank you my friend. You’ve done excellent work,” his hand clapped down lightly on Clark’s shoulder, his grin widening with something else Clark couldn’t describe. It wasn’t mean, it even looked genuine. But a look in those eyes and he knew it was something entirely different.   
  
Either way, he tried to smile at him. Praise was supposed to be good, and he hated himself for having to remind himself that was how praise worked.    
  
“Thanks I hope you uh.. Make good use out of it?”   
  
Nygma snorted, “But of course, now go run back to Crane. Just say you did the job, it’s too young for a nice young guy like you to be out in Gotham. I would be quick.”   
  
He nodded, “Of course, thank you.”   
  
  


***

The warehouse is just as horrible as it was earlier that morning, still damp, dim, and generally awful. Clark stood there, explaining how he dropped off the box but completely leaving out his encounter with Nygma.   
  
“It went smoothly,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant as he possible could given his situation. “I dropped the box off and ran back as soon as I could.”   
  
“Do you know what time it is now, Clark?”   
  
He flinched at the sudden question, “No, I.. I don’t.”   
  
Crane pressed his mouth into a tight line, chewing on his bottom lip so hard it was cracked and bleeding. Another crazy feature on this crazy man that Clark hardly understood the motives of. 

“It’s nine o’clock at nine, what took you so long?” 

  
“Walking, and running. It’s quite the distance,” the lie fell easily from his mouth. Though it felt more like a half-lie. The trek was long, but he was also super fast and super strong. Not that Crane would ever know those details about him. He had no reason too, and Clark refused to tell a crazy stranger that much about himself.   
  
“Be faster,” Crane snapped off, like biting the head off of of a lollipop.   
  
“Yes sir,” Clark straightened up a little. Trying to look like more in the eyes of the man who he was supposed to view as boss. “It won’t occur again, I swear it.”   
  
Crane shook his hand to the left, “Not like you very well have the chance. I want you here tomorrow as soon as you can physically manage it. Understand me? We’ve work to do, you and I. But you already knew that,” he chuckled, darkly. Clark merely swallowed and nodded along.   
  
In his head he was elsewhere, not focusing too hard on what Crane had to say so much as what he was going to text to Barbara about this whole thing. Crane’s mouth moved and Clark barely heard. For the better, he told himself. If he had to hear more of Crane’s plan he might explode at how crazy it sounded.   
  
So when Crane waved him off he smiled and walked right out of the warehouse, tearing back to the hotel at full speed until he got there. The calmness of the hotel had soothed his nerves. Dim lights, but not rank and disgustingly yellow hue. Clark took several deep breaths, and that’s when he heard the patter of Mr. Jones’ feet coming towards him.   
  
“Clark my boy- where have you been? We’ve been looking for you all day!”   
  
He shook his head, “I was- my camera was stolen an’ I went looking for it. Sorry, I just.. If I lose those pictures..” he let himself trails off of his sentence. Maybe his own emotional issues would be convincing enough. He was not upset over the camera, just his own predicament that he should have said no to in the first place.   
  
But Mr. Jones’ face looked down at him kindly, a sad sort of smile played at his lips and Clark wanted to shrivel up on the spot. Did he deserve that sort of kindness?   
  
“I’m so sorry, I’ll try to look for it myself. For now though, you should get some rest. You look dog tired.”   
  
“Yeah, I.. I think I will actually. Thank you Mr. Jones,” Clark waved at him and started off towards the stairs.   
  
Sleep was definitely what he needed.   
  
  
  



	16. Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suprise Bitch, I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me  
> Aka......shit goes down.

A hot cup of coffee balanced between Clark’s hands. It was early, nearly dawn and the sun was only an orange-pink orb in the sky instead of high and white. The warehouse wasn’t as dingy as it had been the night before, the previous clutter was gone and everything was on high, looming shelves. Vials of every label and color hungover Clark’s head, each meaning something he would hopefully never have to learn. 

“Once I take him down, once I take him down this city will fall. Everyone will see- they will see.”

“And what do I have to do?” Clark asked, bringing the cup of coffee to his lips and taking a long sip. The one relief to his anxiety at the time. Instead of focusing on Crane he could nurse his drink and stare at nothing.

After all, Barbara would be coming by noon with her ‘people’. Whatever that meant, he didn’t really want to know. It was easier to think hopefully than to think otherwise. What else could he have done?

“Just sit and look as average as you can, I programmed the dose to Cobblepot to drive him after you.”

Clark’s heart sank down to his stomach. Had he not heard Crane correctly? There was no way, but all of the boxes, time under machines. He missed it, completely.

He swallowed and forced out a short laugh, “You… What?”

“Barbara told me you’re a strong man, surely you can handle whatever he tries to do to you.”

“Isn’t Cobblepot a murderer?”

Crane laughed, “Who in Gotham  _ isn’t _ a murderer is the question! Clark, Clark, Clark- Clark.” He shook his head and Clark leaned back against the gesture. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he couldn’t fight the full bodied flinch that took over his muscles when Crane actually touched him.

“You still have so much to learn but you’ll be gone all to quickly,” His voice was darker, more menacing than it had ever sounded before. It was pitched with just the slightest sense of joy and that only made the feeling of dread worsen in Clark’s chest.

Clark took a step back, “I didn’t ask this, I just wanted work,” he tried to keep up the act. For only a little longer, at least that was what he kept telling himself.

“I can tell the cops-“

“And you think they would believe you?” Crane said, brows raised, “As far as the GCPD knows I’m a dead man on the run. So please, tell them all about me. You’re going to comply right now, Barbara told me you’re tough, surely you can handle this much.”

He walked behind one of the many shelves and Clark heard the scrape of a chair before the nose became audible to the ears of humans. Was he bait now? A trap of Crane’s to be laid out and used to catch Penguin.

Clark had done his research, he also sat down in the chair. He tried to keep his face as placid as he could.

“An obedient lad.”

His brow twitched and Clark stared at the largest window, so close to the roof. It was more like a sky light but it felt like so much more than that when Crane began to tie him to the chair.

He closed his eyes and felt the little bit of sunlight that poured into the warehouse from that one dusty skylight. It was his beacon, if there was light, he could survive anything. The sun wouldn’t go anywhere, the sun was a constant. Clark- was a constant. He could handle this, who else would handle it?

When he opened his eyes again Crane was standing under the skylight, a confused look upon his tightly drawn features.

“Something wrong?”

Crane snapped his attention to Clark then back to the skylight in nearly an instant. Something was wrong, anxiety poured from the doctor in waves.

“I saw a shadow is all, perhaps my eyes are betraying me in my age.”

“Perhaps,” Clark agreed and looked at the skylight. Someone was definitely on the roof. He could hear the steady rhythm of their heart beat. Eerie calm against Crane’s anxiousness.

He knew that heartbeat, he knew he had heard it before but  _ where _ was the question of the hour. Clark bit his lap and thought back to all of his classmates, the highly decorated people he saw in the streets, the musicians in  _ The Sirens,  _ anyone he could’ve talked to.

And he came up completely blank, he hadn’t the slightest idea of who it could possibly be on the roof. But they were waiting, probably for the right moment to strike down, that was if they planned an ambush. Clark doesn’t know what this stranger could possibly be planning.

He took a deep breath in, “It gets stuffy in here, do you ever get tired of it? Not going outside?”

Crane’s nose crinkles in distaste,

“I prefer to focus on my work, you need to be quiet. If that is Oswald on the roof he isn’t planning anything good, and I’d hate to have your blood spill.”

“Haha… right,” Clark swallowed and looked around himself once again. There was a shelf to his left and empty space to his right. If anyone else was bound in rove the way he was bound currently the rope may cut into their skin.

If only he could be this observant in school. He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and looked down at his shoes, shifting his feet. Breaking out wouldn’t be too hard at all. Just a lunge out of the rope and it would snap and he could run out faster than anyone could even shoot a gun.

“There’s definitely someone up there! I knew the little bird would plan an ambush!” Crane’s voice broke against his own emotions and he pulled a sharp knife from his back pocket, looming below the skylight like a shadow amongst a bright orange field.

Clark heard the light taps of footsteps on the roof but wasn’t prepared for the skylight shattering and a dark figure swooping through.

His heart leapt into his throat at the site of it all, of the leather-clad figure kicking Crane in one graceful motion. It was like a horrible waltz, watching Crane stumble only to get punched in the collarbone. The same leather-clad figure that had been on the balcony those many nights ago. Fighting Doctor Crane with near impossible grace in their stride. They moved almost in a perfect four count and it felt like the most beautiful thing Clark had ever seen.

Crane fell to the floor with a popping noise and the figure padded over to Clark near silently, slicing off the ropes with one quick flick of a knife. They extended their gloved hand out to Clark and he took it, rising to his full height.

“Thank you,” he said. Trying to look into the mask the other wore but it was lined with something Clark couldn’t even see through.

They flicked their hand backwards towards the door, a silent gesture to get moving. Clark followed them, into the pouring daylight outside. In the distance he could actually hear the sirens, the cops were definitely on their way but he couldn’t seem to care all that much. 

  
His heart was racing rapidly in his chest as he was pulled forward. The person in leather hardly held back, their hand held Clark’s tightly. Continuing to pull him along the winding dirt paths that connected the warehouses together. Clark could easily run faster, get across town faster but he felt like there was lead in his shoes as he was pulled along by this.. Stranger.    
  
This stranger who had basically been stalking him, who sat on a balcony in the rain, who moved just too quickly for Clark to actually catch and now he was being led away from Crane by him.    
  
His life didn’t make sense anymore, it really didn’t.

 

***   
  


They had just made it into the city when the leather dressed stranger finally slowed down and started to turn to the left. Down a decrepit alley, it smelt entirely of mold and burning trash but Clark didn’t feel phased. He didn’t know what he was feeling, everything felt like a swirl of emotions flooding through him like a river.    
  
It was all so much at one time, working for an actual psychopath who couldn’t feel fear, losing his camera, being rescued and taken away by a stranger he’d been trying to find since he first saw them.     
  
He had to at least have one thing before he left. Clark paused and stared at the back of the other’s head.    
  
“So you saved me, huh?” He asked, keeping his eyes focused. He could feel the heat rushing through him but it almost evaporated when the stranger turned around and faced him completely.    
  
“An eye for an eye, isn’t that the saying?”    
  
Clark’s heart dropped into his stomach, “What?”    
  
The other just shrugged their shoulders, “An eye for an eye, you saved me- it’s only fair I saved you.”    
  
He clenched his fists tightly. How could he have saved this stranger? When would that have ever happened? Gotham- god damn Clark would never understand anything about that city.    
  
“What are you talking about?”    
  
“You are honestly so foolish- smart one minute.. Dumb the next,” the figure’s head shook and started off again. Clark narrowly caught their thin wrist, pulling them back to turn around in a quick motion. A flash of a thought went through his head and he tightened his grip.    
  
“Tell me who you are, you can at least give me that. Okay?” He kept his voice from shaking, at least he had that. Some sort of control over himself.    
  
The figure shifted a little and Clark hated the way their heartbeat rammed calmly in their chest, “You already know that.”    
  
“No, I don’t- actually. That’s why we ask questions-”    
  
“Clark, let go of my wrist,” their voice dropped lowly and Clark nearly jumped.    
  
He let go, fingers sliding across the leather of their sleeve. An empty gesture, he could only stare into the abyss of a mask until they yanked it off.    
  
If Clark’s heart was in his stomach it was somewhere down by his feet at that moment, he could only stare. The world felt like it stopped in one single second, nothing spun, the wind didn’t blow, horns stopped honking. It was just him- in this alley.    
  
With  _ Bruce _ who just rescued him from Crane- who was supposed to be in the hospital recovering, who was the leather figure that was on the balcony that night.    
  
His vision spun as he stared down at him, at the way his blue eyes reflected against the dim sunlight that peaked into the alley.    
  
“You.” Clark’s throat felt uncomfortably raw, and it was worse when Bruce simply nodded his head indifferently.    
  
“Me,” he didn’t break eye contact, “I wasn’t watching you really- if that makes you feel better.”    
  
Clark snorted, “It doesn’t, I can’t believe you were- stalking. What were you looking for?”    
  
“Crane, and you led me to him. Well, you and Barbara did. The cops have probably already arrested him. I kicked him pretty hard, he’ll at least be down for a while-”    
  
“You used me to find Crane?”    
  
Bruce’s stare faltered, “No, not initially. I did want to meet and talk to you. That was all true- we were.. I didn’t use you to get closer to Crane, not like that.”    
  
“How would I know? Because from here it kind of feels like you used me as some sort of human bait, can you explain that?” Clark folded his arms over his chest, glaring down at Bruce.    
  
But Bruce merely shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the dirty brick wall next to him.    
  
“If you don’t believe me that’s perfectly fine, not many people do anymore. I was honest though, as honest as I could be when I was drugged- which by the way, I made an antidote for. I didn’t use your emotions.”    
  
“But were your own real, Bruce?”    
  
Bruce’s brows furrowed together, “Of course they are, I wasn’t leading you on if that’s what you’re hinting at. Listen, I’m better now. The drug is  completely out of my system and I knew I had to help you. Barbara didn’t tell me she got you involved in all of this and anything could’ve happened.”   
  
“Could it have?” Clark raised his brows, “You know what I’m capable of, so I find that a little hard to believe right now.”    
  
“You don’t have to believe me then, but you were still tied to a chair with Crane in the room. It was the only logical thing to get you out of there as soon as I could.”    
  
“Did that require you stalking me first?”    
  
“It wasn’t about you!” Bruce’s voice raised and he glared up at Clark, “A lot of this happened before you got here. You just happened to be around and used. You weren’t supposed to get involved or even hear about all of this. I tried to protect you from that.”    
  
“Why?”    
  
Bruce stamped his foot on the ground, throwing his hands into the air, “Because, none of this should be your concern! You’re a journalism student from Kansas and you shouldn’t get involved in Gotham’s drama! I mean, at least wait until you’re an adult or something!”    
  
Clark scoffed, “You’re handling Gotham’s issues, aren’t you?”    
  
“That’s different, I live here. Gotham is my home. How would your parents feel if they knew you got involved in this? It’s a drug cartel, you were involved in a drug cartel.”    
  
He breathed in shakily through his nose at the mention of his parents. How would they feel? Disappointed, and scared, probably. Worried for his safety, and he completely ignored that.    
  
Clark looked at Bruce again,at the way his shoulders dropped when they met each other’s eyes. His eyes glassed over, just looking at Bruce.    
  
“They’d be terrified,” his voice felt foreign against his tongue as he spoke, looking down at the pavement below him. “If they knew what I got into, they would be terrified and probably disappointed that I found trouble so soon.”

  
“Of course they would be, do you see why I watched you and took you out then?”    
  
Clark looked up, “I do.”    
  


Bruce smiled, the corners of his lips just barely turning up, “Then let’s go then. Alfred is expecting us back in less than an hour.”    
  
“He’s not driving?” Clark asked, starting to walk next to Bruce as he took his hood down and slipped the gloves off his hands. Just an average teenager in a black jacket, and pants. Nothing more than that. A perfect illusion to fool the eye.     
  
“Nope, I’m driving.”    
  
He laughed, “I didn’t know you could drive! What are you driving, the limo? Or something else?”    
  
“Well aren’t you just chipper, no. I’m driving something else. You’ll have to hold on tight though, just a heads up.”    
  
“I think I’ll manage, it’ll be like a hug. Let me guess, motorcycle?”    
  
Bruce nodded, “I fixed it up myself while I was recovering from Ellusion, I guess you could say its easier to heal when you’re not focused on yourself.”    
  
“Understandable, plus you got knowledge out of it. I know how to fix tractors, so if you have any other vehicles that need to be spruced up,” Clark pointed at himself with his thumb, smiling brightly. Just to grab Bruce’s attention for a little while longer. It was worth it when he earned a gentle smile and a roll of eyes. Stupid beautiful, for a rich guy.    
  
They walked out of the alley together, and Clark took Bruce’s hand along the way. An odd comfort washing over him when Bruce squeezed. Everything felt oddly settled as they reached the motorcycle.    
  
Bruce tossed his leg over the seat and kicked the stand up, balancing on his other leg. He waved Clark over,    
  
“Just come sit on the back, I’m a good driver. Don’t worry.”    
  
Clark walked over and hopped on, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist and pressing his face into his shoulder.     
  
“Are we gonna fly down the road?”    
  
“Obviously, if only we could fly in the sky..” Bruce rolled his eyes and revved the engine, starting off quickly through the streets of Gotham. The wind whipped at Clark like a viper, and he tightened his grip on Bruce.    
  
Clark laughed, “If only it was that easy..”    
  
The world blurs around him, flying past in an array of colors and brightness. It’s the prettiest thing Clark has seen and it gets even better when they’re just outside of the city and rolling valleys of green dot the horizon. When he looks at Bruce his hair is blowing against the wind, and it’s a wonder he can see anything. They’re just going so fast, Clark can go faster.. He knows that but there’s something different that he feels while watching someone else go fast.    
  
He wondered if Bruce felt the same way, if he felt like he was finally free from whatever kept him grounded while going so fast down the road. If anything was crossing his mind other than keeping up with his own pace- breaking his own records as he went faster and faster.    
  
Clark buried his face into Bruce’s shoulder, smiling all the while. He heard Bruce laugh and then they were going faster. The sun peaked out even brighter from the sky and when Clark sat back up it was a beautiful orange orb in the sky. It felt like nothing else could go more right in the world except for Bruce’s driving and the blurred images of nature around him.    
  
He felt free in an entirely different way, like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders and tossed off by this great, terrifying force that was Bruce Wayne, and Clark only wanted more of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? This took forever to write bc it's the second to last chapter. I'm altering my chapter count because I realized while writing this that I hit every major plot point I wanted. So the next chapter will be tying up any loose ends I left and a great great moment I think everyone's been waiting for. If you would like to see more of my work please consider following my tumblr @brunchyarts and thank you SO much for reading and sticking with me. I know I'm inconsistent but god <3 ya'lls support really kept me going.


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